


the alpha type

by fallfrovmgrace



Series: afterglow // kaylor oneshots [1]
Category: Taylor Swift (Musician)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/F, Feelings, Fluff, Lesbian Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:08:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21877144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallfrovmgrace/pseuds/fallfrovmgrace
Summary: And then she came closer, and closer, and closer. And Taylor recognized her almost immediately.Karlie Kloss.She had seen some of her photoshoots in the past, thought that she was cute for being a really young woman. And then the memory of their first meeting flashed through her mind; the smell of rusty stools and low end alcohol, the irritated mood she had been in, the sight of this beautiful woman sitting beside her and worrying about her. It all came back to her, and she could do nothing but stare helplessly at Karlie Kloss as her body strutted before her very own eyes.
Relationships: Karlie Kloss/Taylor Swift
Series: afterglow // kaylor oneshots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1576045
Comments: 4
Kudos: 61





	the alpha type

**Author's Note:**

> New book! This is going to be just short (or really really long in this case) stories inspired by lyrics or songs of lover the album. This is the first one, so I hope you enjoy! As always feel free to leave feedback. I appreciate all of your support and I love you guys endlessly.

She met Karlie Kloss at a filthy and dimly lit bar.

It was a bad day for the singer; first, she had woken up and the stranger she had so gleefully slept with the night before had been still under the sheets of _her_ bed. In _her_ apartment. Then, when she had calmly tried to kick her out in the best and kindest way possible, that _model_ had started weeping like a baby would when they're being deprived of their favorite sweets. She had begged her to please understand that she wanted to see the singer again, which was basically her saying that she wanted them to date. But Taylor Swift wasn't made for dating. Going out, bringing a boy or a girl to a fancy restaurant and then initiating a romantic relationship with them — it wasn't her. Taylor Swift, worldwide famous American singer songwriter, didn't date. It just simply wasn't in her blood, no matter how hard she tried, no matter how many times she gave it a hopeful try, she would always screw up. So what better way than just give up? Fucking with no strings was fun anyway.

"Another whiskey, please," Taylor muttered, voice hard and angry at no one in particular. She recalled her new publicist, how that afternoon she had filled her head with complaints about how bad her reputation was. _Fucking bitches won't bring you more publicity!_ or _Perhaps a good, fake relationship would give you more fame,_ or again, _Aren't you tired of this lifestyle? Stop using people as fucktoys and start dating like one normal human being would do._ The thought of Tree Paine made the blood in her veins boil. "Ugh, make it double, _please_."

Once her glass was in front of her, she took off her black blazer and unfastened the first button of her ivory button down shirt. Her long golden wavy hair was a mess, and she pulled it with an unenthusiastic hand. Taylor shifted uncomfortably on the seat, its lacerated leather rubbing against the black fabric of her silky pants. They were too tight around her thighs, and she mentally damned her stylist for being so fucking stupid and deaf to her requests.

"Had a bad day?"

That was when a voice so soave, so feminine and gentle, reached her ears. When Taylor turned around, an angry and deep frown on her slightly pouted lips, she came face to face with an incredibly beautiful woman — probably in her early twenties — and grumbled.

"Listen," she began, finishing her shot of whiskey and slamming the glass against the dirty counter. "If you're here to fuck, I'm not in the mood tonight."

Her reputation was well known in the world, and even though she currently looked horrible, she knew that this stranger knew who she was.

The woman was, to say the least, bewildered. Her thin and nude lips hung open for a second, before her graceful frame gently but hurriedly lowered on the seat beside Taylor. "What?! No, I—I'm not looking for that. Oh God, no, I'm—I mean, you're stunning and all but I would never—I—," the stranger stuttered, cheeks pink and eyes wide in embarrassment. Taylor noticed the color of her irises; jade green. "—I'm making this worse. I'm sorry, I'm just—I didn't want to disturb you. You just look like you're in a really bad mood and—,"

"And what? Thought that it would be a great idea to approach me and talk to me?" Taylor said harshly, the sound of her voice vibrating in the air like the rattles of a snake. "You don't even know me," she muttered.

The stranger stayed silent, and Taylor watched her face from the reflection on her glass. She was unmoving, eyes fixated on the side of the singer's head. She huffed, running nervously a hand through the mane that was her blonde hair. Her eyes burned; it had been a long day indeed.

"I'm sorry," the stranger finally spoke, and Taylor _almost_ felt guilty when she saw the other woman duck her head in shame. She knew that she was a horrible person; not only to strangers, but to the people who surrounded her and had been targeted as her friends. "I'm Karlie by the way."

She sounded shy, and Taylor slowly but disinterestedly glanced at her. The singer didn't reply. With a wave of the hand, she requested another shot.

"Um, I just..." Karlie trailed off. "...I don't have a lot of friends here in Los Angeles, and I'm usually an outgoing and friendly person, so I just thought..." she didn't finish her sentence, and maybe it was better that way.

"This bar sucks," Taylor finally spoke, voice aggravated. With an annoyed face, she pushed away the glass. "This whiskey sucks. This _whole_ place sucks. So why on earth would you ever come here? Did you think that you would make a lot of friends here tonight, uh?"

"I don't know," Karlie replied quietly. She seemed to close off, sinking deeper into her own shelter. Taylor stared at her for a moment. High cheekbones, slim frame, modest breasts, really pretty eyes. Karlie would be the perfect girl to take home and make hers for the night, if only she wasn't in a bad mood.

"You're still too young, princess," Taylor said with an exhausted sigh. She hung her shoulders and let her forearms rest on the counter, not caring if the sleeves of her button down shirt would get dirty. "And naive,"

"I'm not," Karlie spoke with confidence as she held her head high. "Just because I'm a model doesn't mean that I'm fragile or _naiv_ e."

Taylor snorted, and looked at her with a curious glance. "Fine," she shrugged. "Whatever you want, princess,"

"Stop calling me princess," Karlie muttered, sounding genuinely embarrassed.

"Hm, let me think about it," Taylor feigned a pensive pose; finger under her chin and lips pouted. "No. Definitely no, princess."

Karlie groaned, but she seemed to turn away from her in order to hide a little smile. Oh, how easy it was to seduce a woman like Karlie. If only Taylor wasn't in a bad mood.

"You're so annoying,"

"I know. A lot of people have told me that," Taylor put on her best cocky smile. "Usually they say that to me after I've given them an orgasm. I love teasing them."

With that, the singer folded her blazer over her elbow, stood up and left a few bills on the counter. She desperately needed a shower, to wash away all the negative feelings she felt throughout her whole body. The singer noticed the way Karlie's eyes briefly glanced at her chest, and when finding out that she had been blatantly caught, the model averted her gaze with blushing cheeks. Taylor smirked.

If only she wasn't in a _bad_ mood.

"Bye, princess. I'm _sure_ I will see you around."  
  


—  
  


Her arms tiredly fell around her hips as she rolled over on the bed, careful not to land on top of the young woman. Her breath was a little shallow and staggered, but it couldn't compare to the breathless and heaving body next to hers. The singer was ragged; they've been going at it since half past midnight. When she faced her nightstand, the clock stared at her with three red angry numbers.

2:48 a.m.

"Damn, you're just—," the other muttered, ending the sentence with a light moan. "—so _good._ It's insane."

"Thanks," Taylor mumbled cockily, feeling proud of herself. She would never get tired of strangers complimenting her sex skills. "But you've got to go now."

The younger, petite woman looked up at her as Taylor slipped out of bed and walked towards the bathroom. The light made the stranger squint her eyes as she covered them with her bare arm. "Can't I—just stay here for the night? I swear I'll be gone tomorrow morning."

Taylor washed her hands and her face, gaze focused on the sink for a moment. It was _really_ late, after all. She was a bitch sometimes, but the streets outside were perilous at night, and kicking her out would be like sending someone in the claws of lions. And as much as she hated falling asleep with someone else by her side, she would survive for one night.

"Fine," she muttered, going back to bed. Taylor saw the way the brunette woman looked at her naked form, and as soon as she was under the sheets, asked airily, "Want to go for another round, Lois?"

"It's _Joyce,_ " she rolled her eyes. "And no—you fucked the shit out of me tonight and I'm tired."

The stranger rolled on her side, but her voice didn't sound convincing to the singer. Taylor examined the sight of her back, and counted each rib that poked out of her skin, waiting for her to give in.

Until—

"Actually," the singer raised her brows as Joyce turned around, facing her with pink cheeks. "I think I want to go for another round, yes."

And with that, she reached out, grabbed the back of Taylor's neck and kissed her fervently, pulling the singer on top of her.  
  


—  
  
  
  


"You look awful."

Taylor huffed and breathed out, smoke coming out of her mouth. She accidentally burned the tip of her finger with her cigarette, and hissed harshly. "Thanks, Jake. So do you, by the way."

"Listen, Miss America—,"

"I've told you a million times to _stop_ calling me that."

"—Tree is angry. She wants you to go back inside and finish the meeting like a real adult."

"I needed to smoke a cigarette. That woman gets on my nerves sometimes."

Jake was a songwriter. They've written thousands of songs together, and somehow, along the way, they've sort of become best friend. Taylor considered him as more of a brother for her, even though in the early days of their friendship he had tried to hit on her. The singer couldn't believe that it had been seven years already.

"She just wants the best for your career."

"She just wants the best for your career," Taylor mocked, voice deep and sounding as male as a female voice could be. "That's bullshit. She just wants my money."

"True," Jake shrugged. "But she also wants to help your image, Taylor."

"There's nothing wrong with my image. Everyone loves who I am. I don't see people complaining," the singer says, stumping her foot on the ground and resting her back against the wall. She inhaled a long drag of the cigarette, and held back a spontaneous cough. She would be dead by the time she will reach her thirties if she doesn't quit smoking soon. But that was a problem for another time. "Who employed Tree, anyway?" she asked irritated.

"You," Jake replied as if it was the most obvious thing.

"I must have been drunk," Taylor muttered to herself, finishing her cigarette and throwing it on the ground. She stepped on it and watched the flicker of fire extinguish.

"Listen—,"

"Jake, please," Taylor sighed tiredly. "I understood. I will come back in a few minutes. Now, please, do me a fucking favor and leave me alone."

The singer saw the disappointment swim deep within his chocolate brown eyes. She saw the way the side of his bottom lip arched downwards in a displeased frown. She saw the way he clenched his jaw, probably swallowing a remark down his throat.

Taylor ignored all the signs, and gave him a pointed look before stubbornly looking out the city. The last things she heard was Jake's exasperated sigh, and the sound of a metallic door closing a few feet away from her. The singer quickly rubbed the skin of her temple, staring out at the Los Angeles skyline and breathing in the air. It was cold; her hands were freezing, but no matter what, being on the rooftop of a skyscraper made her feel invincible, bigger than the fears inside her brain.

She exhaled one more time, deeply, and desperately suppressed the urgent desire of a drink, as she detached her body from the wall and headed inside.  
  


—  
  


Taylor Swift loved events. Especially if they were fashion related.

On the twentieth day of November 2018, the singer found herself surrounded by celebrities and beautiful, _ethereal_ models. Sitting at the very front row of the runway, she was beside Anna Wintour, editor in chief of Vogue, and the gorgeous Stella McCartney, English fashion designer. Her accent was heavy and pronounced whenever she addressed the singer by her left side.

For the occasion, Taylor was wearing a black Versace sequin jumpsuit. The garment showed enough of her modest cleavage, and the various, drooling looks she got from both women and men made her feel _gloriou_ s.

The singer kept the ghost of a flirty smile on her face, the mild hint of a sultry look dancing slowly within her deep ice blue eyes. Taylor saw the cameras pointed at her, saw the bright and dazzling light of their flashes. It was still surreal to her; how she rose from literal ground, worked her ass off for her whole life, and became famous. She was still at the peak of her career, despite having the bad and scandalous reputation of that of a man. Nobody cared that she didn't date; nobody cared that she fucked bitches and models whenever she pleased. Nobody cared about her life style. What mattered to the general public was the music she so passionately crafted. The general public loved her entire discography, and she had reached a time in her career where the fans outgrew the number of haters.

Diane Von Furstenberg walked by the trio, and stopped by to complement each one of them.

"You look gorgeous, dear," the Belgian fashion designer said, voice sweet and caring. The older woman placed her hand on top of Taylor's and smiled down at her.

"Thank you, Diane. You've never looked better."

"That's so sweet of you, darling," she grinned. "You almost look like a model tonight. Ever thought of giving the fashion world a try?"

Taylor hung her head and let out an airy laugh. "Music is still my passion."

It was true. The only real love she had ever known in her whole life was music.

Diane smiled even bigger at the sound of genuine appreciation in Taylor's voice, and quickly left the three women to go sit at her own seat on the front row. Then, the lights dimmed, and the show began. Taylor got comfortable in her chair, and readied herself to be flooded by the beauty that was about to walk along the runway.

The singer analyzed each woman that passed by, the smell of washed clothes, of linen and conditioner filling her nostrils. They were all stunning; once again, Versace had done an incredibly good job.

And then, right when they were nearing the end of the show, a tall, lanky _goddess_ of a woman walked down the catwalk as if she owned the whole place. She was strikingly attractive, breathtaking even; high cheekbones, lips so thin that they almost vanished, and marvelous green eyes focused onward. Her steps were graceful, as silent and gentle as those of a panther, and Taylor thought that she was the most beautiful— _no,_ gorgeous girl she had ever laid her eyes upon. The make-up, the see through dress, the infinite and smooth legs; everything about this one model was _perfect._

And then she came closer, and closer, and closer. And Taylor recognized her almost immediately.

Karlie Kloss.

She had seen some of her photoshoots in the past, thought that she was cute for being a really young woman. And then the memory of their first meeting flashed through her mind; the smell of rusty stools and low end alcohol, the irritated mood she had been in, the sight of this beautiful woman sitting beside her and worrying about her. It all came back to her, and she could do nothing but stare helplessly at Karlie Kloss as her body strutted before her very own eyes.

"How old is she?" Taylor asked to Stella McCartney over the sound of loud cheers and the soft tune of a sultry song.

"I think she's 26," the fashion designer replied, pensive look on her face.

"Yes," Anna Wintour jumped in their conversation just as the show came to an end. "She's simply astonishing. Really beautiful and down to earth girl. Big heart, always cares about the others."

Taylor couldn't keep her eyes off the young model, as it walked behind the curtain and headed backstage.

"Interested?" Stella asked, and the singer could hear the smirk just from the sound of her teasing voice.

"Not my type," Taylor replied, but felt like she was lying. The entire world knew that blondes with green eyes were her Achilles heel. "Excuse me," she hurriedly muttered, quickly walking away from the two curious women. The singer attempted to avoid the questions of the photographers and journalist; she had one goal in mind, and she was determined to reach it.

Backstage, she was swallowed by a sea of models wearing only underwear, the chaos of the after show making the whole scene look natural. A few younger models looked her way, probably recognizing her and interested in the prize that came with Taylor's body. But the singer was looking for someone in particular.

"Excuse me," she halted a woman in her early fifties. "Can you show me the way to Karlie Kloss' dressing room, if she has one?"

The woman nodded and quickly pointed at something at her left, and Taylor quickly offered her a thankful smile before setting off. The singer, then, saw her again. Karlie was standing there, in the middle of the chaotic room, with her head thrown back, and even from afar, Taylor could hear the clear sound of her laugh. The thought of speaking to the woman again set her stomach on fire, lust swirling through her veins as she quickened her pace.

But just as she was five feet away from Karlie Kloss, the sight in front of her suddenly halted her to a stop. There the model was, trailing her fingers up the clothed arm of an older, dark haired man. He looked like he came off of Wall Street; black suit and tie, black shiny shoes, fake and ominous smile.

Taylor stood there as other models run past her. Karlie, unaware of her presence, obviously kept on speaking to the man that looked to be an entrepreneur. And then, she leaned in, stroked his shaved cheek and kissed him on the mouth. It was a simple peck, a simple touch between lips, but it set a fire of embarrassment inside Taylor's heart that the singer turned around with the speed of a lightening.

The image of the two kissing never left her brain, not even when she exited the venue to smoke a cigarette.

Not even when she went back home.  
  


—  
  


Taylor was urgently kissing rising model Gigi Hadid when her phone suddenly rang. The shrill noise made the singer roll her eyes, a grumble vibrating against the smaller girl's lips. Taylor pulled away, abandoning her spot on top of the model and standing up to retrieve the ringing device. The girl was left flustered, cheeks pink and innocent lips swollen. The first two buttons of her sleeveless shirt were undone, and her blonde hair was messy, sprawled around her face and over the head of the couch. The subtle fire in the hearth cracked, and Taylor groaned when she noticed who was calling her. At quarter to midnight.

Tree fucking Paine.

"What do you want?" Taylor muttered. She felt a slight shiver run down her spine, her button down shirt open wide and letting her abs free.

"Taylor, I'm _serious_ ," her publicist's muffled voice echoed. "Please, consider my plan. It would make your life so much easier,"

"For fuck's sake, _Tree,_ " the singer sighed, exasperatedly. She run a hand through her golden tresses and breathed deeply. "I won't agree to your plan. PR relationships are not for me. I'm not a good liar, and you know _that._ And why on earth would I even have to fake commit to another celebrity? I'm one of the most famous singers out there, I don't need any more publicity."

"Taylor," Tree let out a single breath. "You're almost 29. You should settle down soon. People expect it from you. You should stop using people only as fucktoys, and start treating them like _humans._ "

"You're not _my_ fucking mother," Taylor muttered darkly. She took a few steps, distancing herself from the still breathless model on her couch. The singer looked out the window at the night skyline, how each light coming from the city represented a single human just living in the moment. It was wild to think that right now, just as she was discussing with her publicist and about to please yet another model, someone else could be having a party, or they could be having a fight with their significant other. "You're supposed to be my publicist, not my fucking caregiver or something. You're supposed to cover my ass when I need to. Stop ruining my life and just let me be myself. Bye."

The singer hung up, too angry to wait for a response. She stared at the black screen for a few moments, before she firmly turned round and walked towards the couch. Taylor got rid of the frown on her face, and instead put on a mask, wearing her best sultry smirk as she stood in front of the couch. Gigi looked up at her, eyes filling with lust and yearning as Taylor pulled on the belt of her jeans.

The singer kicked the garment away from her, and then slowly slipped out of the sleeves of her white button down shirt. She heard the model quietly moan to herself at the heavenly sight of Taylor's body; of the lines shaping her hips, of the muscles forming the abs in her abdomen. Of the taut thighs, which immediately straddled the model's waist. Gigi let out a silent gasp, staring at the marvelous creamy skin hidden behind the lacy black bra.

"Like what you see?" Taylor asked cockily. She loved the way she could easily wrap people around her finger, how she could, in minutes, become the center of their attention, become their sun.

Gigi, unable to speak, nodded vigorously, and then hesitantly reached up to touch the inviting skin of Taylor's chest. But the singer quickly grabbed her wrists and pinned them over her head.

"Not so fast, baby girl," she smirked. Then, she leaned down, kissed her slowly before harshly and eagerly slipping her tongue inside her mouth. And even then, as she kept her eyes slightly open to gauge the ecstasy color the model's face, Tree's words still sounded in her brain.

_You should stop using people as fucktoys, and start treating them like humans._   
  


—  
  


In the first week of December, Taylor went to a museum gala, and once again in her life, she felt like a ghost wandering through crowds of faceless people. Everyone had the same expression; that the celebrities loved to put on whenever they were sure they were surrounded by cameras. Fake, exuberant and exaggerated grins, laughs so loud and bothersome. Eyes too wide, too pronounced by tons of make-up.

That was the only part that Taylor despised the most about her industry; the falseness, the lies that everyone was so keen on telling.

The singer wandered through the large and dimly lit halls, flute of champagne in hand. The only differences that separated her from all the other women were that she was wearing little make-up, just enough to accentuate the color of her eyes, and was sporting a silver, sparkly Gucci pantsuit. The buttons of her blazer were fastened over her abdomen, teasing the other gazes with just a little bit of naked skin underneath. She loved wearing only a lace bra underneath her blazers; whenever she stepped into a room dressed like this, all the attention was suddenly on her, and everyone stripped her of her clothes with only their lustful eyes.

And Taylor loved control. It made her feel powerful, always having a grip on what was going on. Feeling helpless made her ache with insecurities, and the few times she had felt like this in the past, she had promised herself that she would have never felt like that ever again.

The groups of celebrities scattered across the hall of the museum all glanced at her as she passed by them, the sound of a saxophone coming from the distance accompanying the movement of their eyes.

And then Taylor saw one woman in particular, which had attracted her attention merely a few weeks ago, and noticed that she was alone. Those were the easiest preys of her hunts; abandoned women.

The singer approached her with a confidence to her step that the model immediately faced her when she was three feet away from her.

"Karlie Kloss," the name rolled off her tongue so easily that Taylor wondered what it would feel like to moan it in ecstasy. "What a pleasure to see you here."

"Taylor Swift," the younger girl replied. There was a certain politeness and shyness in her voice that made the singer tremble with want. Oh, how she would love to take her home and make her hers. "I see we cross paths again. And—surprisingly—there is no trace of a frown on your face."

"I'm in a great mood tonight," Taylor did her best to be noticed when she trailed her eyes up and down Karlie's body. The model was wearing a beautiful green cocktail dress, the shiny fabric hugging all of her curves; her hips, her chest, her thighs. The singer licked her lips, and when she looked up to meet her eyes, she was mildly surprised that Karlie's own gaze had been trailed on her chest the whole time.

"I really like your necklace," the model complimented her, cheeks turning pink. Taylor noticed the freckle on the right one, and resisted the urge to lean in and kiss it softly.

"Thank you, darling," the singer purred. It was a golden snake, decorated with Swarovski diamonds, and it comfortably nestled in the hollow of her chest, between her breasts. "Are you here alone?"

"Yeah," Karlie nodded. "My _boyfriend,_ Josh, said that he still needed to work out a few things at the office."

"Hm...let me guess—Wall Street?"

The model's eyes widened a little. "Yes," she chuckled, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

"Those guys of Wall Street are all double-faced. Say they need to work at the office, and then do their secretary on their desks," Taylor snorted, and she saw the mild embarrassment on Karlie's face. She took a sip of her champagne, buried a hand on the pocket of her pants, and narrowed her eyes. "Be wary of your _boyfriend,_ sweetheart. A girl like you is too beautiful to have her heart broken over a boy like that."

"Is that a compliment?" Karlie asked with a light laugh.

Taylor let her eyes sparkle under the chandelier of the hall. She sipped her champagne, then stared at Karlie's blushing face over the rim of her glass. "It certainly is, darling."

The model ducked her head timidly, and Taylor watched the way her bronze skin shined under the faint light coming from above. The singer thought that she was the most beautiful woman of the whole gala, and taking her home with her would be like winning the lottery in front of the whole jealous world. Just as she was about to make her move, seduce her, make her way into her brain like an insidious disease, a perky woman approached them and hugged Karlie tightly from behind.

"Look who's here!" the British accent was heavy, and Taylor did everything in her power to get rid of the disappointment that was about to swell her lips. "Did not know you would be in New York tonight!"

The stranger didn't glance at the singer, and Taylor almost felt offended by the sheer indifference. The British woman was wearing a sparkly black dress, a contrast to the pleasing and soft green of Karlie's own dress. "I did not know you would be here either," the model chuckled.

"Where's the boyfriend?"

"Work."

And then, Taylor cleared her throat, making her presence known. When the stranger looked at her, recognition briefly lit her hazel eyes, before she extended her hand and introduced herself. "I'm Cara Delevingne. I'm a model. You must be—,"

"Taylor Swift, nice to meet you," the singer shook her hand firmly, wanting the other to know the fierceness that burned bright inside her heart. "Are you a friend of Karlie's?"

"Yep," Cara laughed awkwardly, glancing at the other model beside her. "You must be, too."

"I—,"

"We met a few weeks ago," Karlie interrupted her.

Taylor stared at her for a moment. "Yeah. We don't know each other very well," she commented, and the truth stung her faintly. The singer heard her publicist's words over and over again in her head. But that didn't stop her from trying to allure Karlie. Just one night with this model would be enough for her. "But we can fix that, can't we?"

Karlie seemed to be at a loss for words as Taylor stared at her, the message clear within her blue eyes. Even Cara seemed to understand the double meaning. After all, Taylor's reputation preceded her, and it wasn't hard to understand her intentions.

"I—,"

"I think she's good, actually," Cara intervened, a fake friendly smile on her face. Of course she would do anything to _protect_ her. They were friends. And friends did everything to make each other happy. Taylor didn't know what that felt like, and for the second time that night, she felt her heart clench at the blatant rejection. She tried to hide it, clenching her jaw and staring at the shorter woman's eyes.

"Cara—,"

"It's okay," Taylor narrowed her eyes, glancing at Karlie, who looked embarrassed to even be in this situation. "I remembered that I should probably head home. Early start tomorrow," she let out a false chuckle. She took a step back, and raised her flute of champagne in the air. "Enjoy the gala, girls."

And then, she turned around, her back facing the pair of models, and left her empty glass on the tray of a passing by waiter. Taylor immediately let her mask crumble, getting rid of the fake happiness from her face. She licked her lips and scratched her chin with her left hand as the other stayed inside the pocket.

Everyone looked at her as she walked down the hall, feeling defeated, head hanging low.

Losing had never felt so bittersweet.  
  


—  
  


Tree Paine stared at her with pursed lips and a bothered expression on her face. Her publicist hated it when Taylor smoked during a meeting; hated the smell of nicotine hanging in the conference room like a hostile cloud of stubbornness. The redhead knew that the singer despised her, despite having employed her a few months ago.

"Can you _at least_ not have your feet on the table? Please?"

Taylor grumbled and rolled her eyes, but sat on the chair like a normal human being would. The singer exhaled, a cloud of smoke coming out of her mouth as she leaned her forearms on the wooden surface. "So, they want me to make other songs because they don't like what I've given them?"

"Yes," Tree nodded, relieved to finally get down to business. "They say that those songs were too R&B for you. They want you to be more pop centered."

"Ugh," Taylor groaned, standing up and pushing the butt of her cigarette on the ashtray. "I want to do whatever I want with my music. I don't care about what they say."

"They're worried about you, Taylor,"

"About what, exactly?"

"They're scared that your next album won't do as good as your previous one."

"So they're worried about the money, not _me._ "

Tree didn't say anything. She knew Taylor was a smart woman, a professional in the business world. She couldn't deny what she had just said; it was the truth. "Still. They want you to at least make three or four songs that are more pop, and then put them in your album."

Taylor looked at her, stoically. "No."

"No?"

"You have ears, Tree. I said no."

Her publicist sighed. "I know what you said, but could you at least think about it?"

"No, I won't," Taylor said harshly. Her anger, for once, wasn't directed at the redhead, but she was the only person sitting in front of her. "Music is the only truth in my life right now. I need to do _my_ music. I need to express what my heart feels _through_ my music, and I won't let some bald and unmarried men take this privilege away from me."

"Taylor, you need to look at the bigger picture here."

"What is it, Tree? Will they fire me? Will they kick me out because I don't make the music they want from me?"

Tree averted her gaze. "You know they would never do that."

"Good. Then, there is nothing to worry about. I will make my album, and if it doesn't go well, I don't care about that. Not anymore. I just want to make music, nothing more."

Her publicist let out a deep breath, looking up at the standing blonde woman with resolute eyes. "I believe in you, Taylor. I know you are good. I know that you are famous for a reason. That is why I'm going to tell them exactly what you've told me. I know that you won't disappoint me _this_ time."

Taylor is caught off guard by the stream of faith coming from the older woman. She didn't even sound like the woman that had been filling her mind with horrible words and discouragement for the last few months. The singer looked away, not wanting to let on how much vulnerable she truly felt. She couldn't even remember the last time someone has said they believed in her. That they trusted her.

"Is that all?"

Tree took her time in gazing at her features. For the first time, they were having a civil conversation, without spitting venom at each other. For the first time, as her publicist nodded, she smiled and said, "Yes."

Taylor gave her a curt shake of the head before heading out the conference room.  
  


—  
  


Taylor saw Karlie again on the second week of December, a few days before her birthday. She wasn't particularly looking forward to it, because she had no one to spend it with. And knowing herself, she would probably go to a bar, haunt her prey, and take them home to get them under her sheets, naked.

This time, the gala wasn't at a museum in New York, but one in Los Angeles. This one was spacious, the halls filled with celebrities looked regal, with crimson carpets, paintings scattered all over the grey high walls, and chandeliers that looked to be made of ice and crystals.

Taylor was sporting grey tight pants, ivory button down shirt underneath a raven black blazer. She left it open, a few of the first buttons of her shirt unfastened to show the tiniest amount of skin.

As she breathed in deeply, she smelled her own cologne, blending in with the scent of champagne and expensive dresses. The singer found herself feeling anxious as she started walking towards the model, who was, once again, alone. She didn't know where the nervousness came from; perhaps she really wanted to spend one night with Karlie, to see what was underneath that clinging red strapless dress and to feel that bronze skin under her calloused hands.

But the more she approached the model, the more she noticed the petulant frown sinking on her thin lips. Karlie was aggressively breaking the ice inside her glass of what was presumably Vodka, and Taylor got in another deep breath, before coming face to face with the model.

She wasn't one for trying too hard with girls, or boys for that mattered, but Karlie had resisted each one of her attempts that she had made recently. And that was a first for the singer.

"Hey, beauty," Taylor purred with her most flirty voice. She wore a smirk, hoping that it would hide the impending perturbation inside her heart. "It's good to see you again. Want to keep me some company?"

When Karlie met her gaze, Taylor gulped at the sight; a fire burned bright inside her eyes as soon as they set upon the singer. All of a sudden, she seemed mad at her, furious even, and Taylor waited for her to say something. Nevertheless, she still kept the confident look on her face.

"No," Karlie muttered.

A laugh bubbled out of Taylor's throat. She didn't expect a flat out no. "Oh, come on," she tried, but Karlie stood more straight, the anger in her jade green eyes now directed at the blonde woman, who slightly cowered.

"I said no, _Jesus,_ " Karlie said harshly. "Why are you here? What are you trying to do, uh? I said no the first time, I said no this time. Stop talking to me. Stop trying to get into my pants! I know what you're like. I've read the tabloids, and I'm not an easy girl! Have some fucking respect, God."

Taylor let her guard down and parted her lips slightly. She hadn't seen an outburst coming. "I'm—,"

"Don't!" Karlie raised her hand to stop her from talking any further. "I won't be one of your fucktoys. What you do is fucking disgusting and disrespectful, do you know that? Have you ever considered people's feelings? Or are you always so full of yourself?!"

Taylor's heart raced inside her ribcage. She felt her resolve crumble, the tears stinging behind her eyes as she listened silently to what Karlie had to say.

"And I hate that you were fucking right! That Josh was really doing his secretary and that we're now broken up!" Karlie's beautiful eyes are filled with unshed tears. Her loud voice had attracted the attention of a few celebrities that were nearby. "I hate that I fucking even met you, because hearing you talk to me like this makes me feel disgusting, a piece of meat. And I don't want to see you, alright?! Stop talking to me, stop trying to get me to have sex with you, because it won't ever happen!"

Taylor had never felt so hurt. She never looked away; she wanted to see each emotion that went through Karlie's eyes.

"Please, do me a favor and leave me the fuck alone."

With that, Karlie walked away from her, their shoulders bumping into each other, and the sudden movement made a single tear slide down Taylor's cheek and fall onto the luxurious red carpet underneath her shoes. The singer clenched her jaw, throat tightened. She didn't want to cry; not in front of everyone.

Taylor run outside, sliding down against a wall and looking up at the cloudy sky as silent tears streamed down her face. She hadn't cried in a long time, it felt almost foreign to her.

With a trembling hand, she grabbed the pack of her cigarettes from her pocket and lit up one of them. She brought it to her lips, and took in a long drag. It burned her lungs, and it was almost painful, if only the ache in her heart wasn't so big.

For the first time, as she walked home alone, forlorn, she truly felt disgusting. She felt it in her bones, in her blood, everywhere.

And it stayed there throughout the whole sleepless night.  
  


—  
  


Taylor knew that Jake suspected that something was up.

The look in his eyes told her that, the way his glance lingered on her face told her that. Everything about his demeanor was suspicious.

The studio was the place where Taylor felt more vulnerable at, where her feelings took life in the form of words. And today, they were filled with longing, with melancholy, as if a piece of the singer's being was missing from the puzzle.

"This is a really sad song," Jake commented. Taylor sat on the chair beside him and removed her headphones. She had just recorded the chorus of one of her new inspirations, one that had come to her unexpectedly two days after Karlie's harsh rejection. "I mean, the sound you were thinking for it is also really...depressing? Self-destructive? I don't know."

The songwriter stared at the piece of paper where Taylor's cursive calligraphy filled every inch. It was messy, as if it had been written hurriedly. Jake looked up at her as he waited for a response. The singer shrugged. "I heard the melody in my head and wrote down a few words for it."

"Is there—a particular reason why you wrote this song? Like—where did you get inspiration from?"

The blonde woman hugged her shoulders and stared at nothing in particular. She knew Jake asked her this question because he was nosy and wanted to know what was going on inside her head. She knew he wanted to find out why Taylor, bright and flirty woman, was suddenly so pessimistic, saw a negative image of herself when she looked at the mirror.

"How do you know when you like someone?" Taylor asked, and immediately, her cheeks turned crimson red. Jake kept on a neutral and unresponsive look on his face, blinking rapidly at her sudden and unexpected question.

"Did you meet someone?"

_Yes. No. I don't know._ "Just answer the question, Jake," she sighed.

"Well," he began, leaning back on his chair. "You know you like someone when you start to realize that you want to spend every single moment with them. You start wondering what they're up to when you're not there with them. You hope to see them in every crowd. You hope to make them smile when you crack a bad joke. You want to see them happy, and you realize that you want to be a part of that happiness. You know you like someone when you miss them as soon as they're not with you."

Taylor listened with bated breath. She had never fallen in love. Love was such a strange feeling to her, even though it was all she talked about in her songs, apart from sex and parties. She knew Karlie was special as soon as she had come home from the fashion show, when she had felt so jealous that she had been in a bad mood for the rest of the week. Karlie was different. She made the singer's primal instincts come alive. But she also made the tiniest flowers bloom in the deepest part of her heart. And when the model had said all of those hurtful words, she had unconsciously stepped on them and destroyed the beautiful garden.

"Taylor? Why did you ask?"

The singer blinked and looked away. "Nothing. Never mind." She got up and went towards the microphone, putting back on her headphones. "Let's go back to the recording."

"Taylor, did you meet someone? You know you can talk to—,"

"Jake, is everything ready for the recording?"

"Taylor," Jake sighed. "Stop ignoring my question and—,"

"Yes!"

Silence settled upon them. Taylor exhaled loudly and rubbed a hand along her face, pushing a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear. She put her hands into the pocket of her grey hoodie, feeling under the spotlight.

"Yes what?"

"I've met someone," she clarified. "I think," she added as an afterthought. "But I don't know. I have experience in sex and all that, but I don't know what a relationship is like. I don't even know if I want a relationship or if I'm good at dating."

"Taylor," Jake hinted a smile. "There's no such thing as _good at dating._ A relationship works when the people that are in it are committed to each other, and there's honesty, and vulnerability, and trust. You've never dated anyone, but that doesn't mean that you're not capable of loving someone like that."

The singer clenched her jaw and forced a laugh. "I'm not sure about that."

Jake knew her friend; she was stubborn, and nothing would ever change her mind. He changed the subject, going into a new territory. "Who is it? Who did you meet?"

"A girl. A model."

"How surprising," the songwriter joked, and Taylor rolled her eyes with an embarrassed smile. She went back to her previous spot beside him, and pushed his shoulder. "What's her name?"

"Karlie."

Even saying her name provoked the birth of thousands butterflies inside her chest. "What is she like?"

Taylor thought about it for a moment. "She's blonde. She's really tall, taller than me. She has mesmerizing green eyes, the most beautiful pair of eyes I've ever seen. She's really slim, but also really fit. She's sweet, and shy, and always lowers her head when she needs to hide her blushing cheeks. She's just...the first woman who made me think about love. I look at her and I want to know what she's like, not only underneath her clothes, but also as a person. I want to know her story, and I want to share mine with her. I want to hear her speak about the things she's passionate about. I want to know if she prefers winter or summer," Taylor shook her head with a lost look in her blue eyes. "I want to know _everything_ about her," she whispered.

"Seems like you skipped the liking part and you're already smitten over her."

When Taylor turned towards him, there was a teasing smirk on his face. But the look inside his eyes told her that he was also happy for her.

"I think that I screwed up, though."

"Why?"

"We're not really friends. I've tried to get into her pants various times. She had a boyfriend, and I told her to be wary of him because Wall Street boys are cheaters. And then, when we saw each other again a few days ago, and I tried once again to seduce her, she just...got angry with me because I was right. Her boyfriend was cheating on her, and she took her anger out on me. She told me that what I do is disgusting and that I'm selfish. She doesn't want to see me again, and she wants me to stop talking to her."

"Oh. That's awful," Jake frowned. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Taylor shrugged. "I think all I can do is get over her. I don't think it will be that hard."

Her friend looked at her. He tilted his head to the side and his frown grew deeper. "I think you should apologize. Make it up to her. Instead of seducing her, and let her see the Taylor everyone knows because of the tabloids, let her see the real you. The charming, gentle and kind one."

"You really think it could work?" she asked skeptically.

Jake nodded with a hopeful smile. "It will work. Just believe in yourself. She will forgive you, I'm sure of it."

Taylor bit her bottom lip. "Okay. I'll try to apologize."  
  


—  
  


Taylor saw Karlie again three days after Christmas Day.

It was at an after party of some fashion event, hosted by American rapper Drake. She arrived relatively early at the location, around seven. The singer still had yet to eat, but that was part of her plan; she wanted to apologize to Karlie and then invite her to dinner. That way, they could also get to know each other better, _if_ Karlie agreed to her proposal and accepted her apologies.

Taylor spotted her at a corner, but didn't approach her until she was alone. As she made her way through the crowd, Karlie still unaware of her presence, she felt her hands tremble in anticipation and a trickle of sweat slide down along her spine. She had opted for a simple black pantsuit, a loose tie wrapped around her neck. Her hair was in natural waves, the make-up minimal but not invisible. Taylor had dressed up solely because she wanted to look good for Karlie. And even though she was confident, the model still made her feel vulnerable and ask herself if she was really worth Karlie's precious time.

When Taylor was finally standing in front of the model and the latter noticed her, the singer offered her an apologetic smile. Karlie didn't seem too hostile towards her; she hadn't run away yet. "Hey," the singer began, and hoped the model wouldn't notice the shakiness or the nervousness of her voice. She wanted this to go as smoothly as possible. "I know you told me to never speak to you ever again, but I really need you to hear me out."

Karlie looked her up and down, unsure. She then stared at Taylor's eyes for a long moment, one where the singer simply enjoyed the hazel and jade mingled together. "Okay," she nodded slowly. "You can talk, I'm listening."

Taylor took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for making you feel like meat or disgusted with yourself. It wasn't my intention," she started. She paused in order to gauge her reaction, and when Karlie's eyes still had a slight hardness to them, Taylor continued. "Sometimes I hate myself for what I do. I don't want to hurt people, I don't mean to bring them pain. But keeping on seducing you, that was wrong. I should have stopped the first time you said no. And by ignoring your rejection I ended up hurting you, and I'm sorry for that. I'm incredibly sorry for that. I'm disgusted with myself, but I'm still sorry, Karlie. I'm _sorry._ "

Taylor's apologize was so genuine that the model's gaze softened. The singer cleared her throat, swallowing every delicate emotion she felt and instead focused on Karlie's face.

"You also look..." Taylor smiled tentatively, not knowing how Karlie could react to a compliment. "...very beautiful tonight."

The model seemed to appreciate her words, and when her cheeks blushed, she never averted her eyes. Instead, Karlie held her gaze and her lips slowly turned upwards. "I'm sorry, too," she told her quietly, embarrassed. "I shouldn't have screamed at you. You didn't really deserve it."

"I think I did."

"But I'm still sorry. I was hurting, and I needed someone else to feel the same amount of pain I was feeling."

Taylor nodded, understandingly. She had done the same thing many times in the past. "I forgive you."

Karlie seemed to lose herself for a moment, staring blankly at Taylor before parting her lips in a timid smile. "I forgive you, too."

The singer's smile turned into a wide grin. "I want to invite you to dinner. To make it up to you."

"You don't have to."

"I know," Taylor said. "But I want to."

The model chuckled faintly, now looking at something else in order to hide her blushing cheeks. Taylor found the sight rather adorable. "Okay," Karlie then replied, lips forming a tight lipped smile. She held onto her golden purse and raised her shoulders slightly. "Let's go and have dinner. Did you have a place in mind?"

"What about...Madeo's Restaurant?"

"Oh, I like Italian!"

"Great!"

Taylor smiled broadly and then turned sideways, offering her elbow to the model. Karlie shyly looked down at her feet and then easily wrapped her hand around Taylor's arm. Intertwined, they walked through the dimly lit room, music still making the walls and the ground beneath them shake. Outside, the singer accompanies the model to her car, and opens the door to the passenger seat for her. Being a gentlewoman has been one of her best qualities.

"Thank you."

Taylor gave her a smile. She walked around the vehicle and then settled on the driver seat. The smell of her cologne mixed perfectly with Karlie's sweet scent. She drove in silence, but it was comfortable and not forced. When they arrived at the fancy restaurant, Taylor reminded herself to thank Jake later.

Inside, they were led to a private booth, far away from prying eyes or lenses of the paparazzi outside. Chill, soft jazz music was playing on the background, as they leisurely sat on chairs opposite to each other. It all looked romantic, Taylor noticed; the candle lit in the middle of their table, the rose on the vase beside it, the cream colored fabric of the tablecloth, and of course, the atmosphere created with the music and the soft glow coming from the chandeliers.

A waiter came by to give them the menus, and left them some space to think about their orders.

"What would you like to eat? It's on me," Taylor said, eyes skimming the plentiful of delicious dishes. She glanced at Karlie, who still had a blush on her face.

"I think I'll go with ravioli filled with ricotta cheese and spinach in a butter and sage sauce. And then I'll have radicchio endive and rucola salad. What about you?"

"Fusilli with olives, capers and tomato sauce. Then I think I will have a veal in lemon sauce. What about drinks?"

"Wine?"

"White or red?"

"Whatever you prefer."

"White it is, then. Let's go with Chardonnay."

When the waiter came back and took their orders, he said with an Italian accent that their dishes would be out shortly.

Their conversation started only when their glasses were filled with wine.

"Do you often take your friends out or is this how you apologize to everyone?"

Taylor lightly smiled, grazing her lips on the brim of her glass and narrowing her eyes at the model. "I don't. I've never done this, actually."

Karlie's smirk kind of dimmed upon hearing that. "Well, is this a date?"

Taylor thought about her response. She looked deeply into Karlie's eyes, heart skipping a beat when the model sipped her wine and her lips wrapped around the brim of her glass. "If you want it to be."

The model didn't acknowledge this, as she averted her gaze and fixed her napkin on her lap. "I don't even remember the last time I went on a date. Josh kind of forgot to ask me out once we hit the three year anniversary. Which was two years ago."

Taylor analyzed her body language. There was a slight frown on the side of her mouth. Her arms were crossed on the table, and her fingers lightly picked at the skin of her elbows. "I'm sorry to hear that. I'm sorry about you and Josh."

"Don't worry about that," Karlie quietly chuckled. "I stopped caring about him once I realized that he was putting zero effort in the relationship. And..." the model looked up at her. "...I should thank you, actually. If it hadn't been for you, I would have never found out about his lovers and I wouldn't have stood up for myself. So thank you,"

Taylor grinned, raised her glass and said, "Cheers to that. Cheating guys can go to hell."

Karlie genuinely laughed. "Cheers."

They clinked their glasses and then drank the wine, emptying them. Their food arrived fifteen minutes later, and they were engrossed in a conversation. Taylor couldn't believe the effect that Karlie had on her; no matter what, the model was the only thing she could see and think about. She was in front of her, sitting, and Taylor couldn't keep her eyes off of her. She was hypnotized by the sight, and perhaps the model noticed it by the way the singer kept staring at her, even as she was ordering her dessert. Even when their mouths were busy chewing their food and their small talk halted momentarily.

When they rose from their seats, ready to go home, Taylor secretly paid and then assured Karlie that she had taken care of the check. The model just nodded, timidly ducking her head and exiting the restaurant. They decided to go for a walk, since it wasn't that late, and while leisurely sauntering through the deserted streets of Los Angeles, Taylor suddenly stopped walking and said quietly, "Come home with me."

Karlie turned around to face her, eyes unsure. The singer felt unarmed in front of the model; her intentions weren't the ones she had thought about the second time she had seen Karlie. But the model obviously misunderstood, and with an awkward chuckle, she took a step away from Taylor and replied defensively, "I don't think that's a good idea."

The singer felt breathless for a moment. All she wanted was for Karlie to understand _why_ she was like this. Why the tabloids described her as a charming woman who was able to get under the sheets of everyone. Why it all started.

And then, the words were slipping out of her mouth. Words that had never been uttered to someone so soon.

"My mother died when I was fourteen," she spoke slowly, sometimes hurriedly. Taylor didn't wait another second, and without gauging Karlie's reaction, she continued, "Car accident. The other driver was...my father. He wasn't drunk, nor was he talking on the phone. He just...got distracted for a moment, and my mother's car came out of nowhere. He didn't see her coming. And despite the doctors' help, she didn't make it. She never saw the daylight again," Taylor took a deep, steading breath. "My father was...he was _devastated_. He always got drunk, never gave me the opportunity to grieve my mother's death. I wasn't popular at school, so nobody cared about me. And I was alone. I just had the comfort that music and songwriting gave me. Then my father...he took his own life. I guess that he felt too guilty about his wife's death, and he didn't know how to deal with that, I don't know. We actually...never talked about it. I never talked about this with anyone. Everybody in high school looked and stared at me because I was the weird one...the _orphan_. Everybody just loved to make fun of me, and push me against walls just to take away the last ounce of dignity that I had left. When I turned fifteen, the social services finally found me a family. They were so caring, and so kind, warm and just...so willing and helpful. But I was...in a dark place, then. I didn't let in anybody, nobody knew what went through my head for most of the time, and nobody cared enough to ask. I went to school, I became the butt of the joke, then went back home, and spent most of my time locked inside my bedroom, writing music and just...crying because I was just so lost and didn't know what to do," a car passed by their sidewalk, but Karlie didn't look at it as she was too focused on Taylor's expressionless and emotionless face, illuminated by the lamppost. "I thought a lot about what my father did after Mom died. I wondered if it would take all the pain away, you know, finishing it all. But it never went too far. They were just thoughts, and I never did anything to take the pain away. Until I started playing short gigs at different bars, and someone noticed me. For the first time after years spent in invisibility, someone noticed me for me, for my passion for music and songwriting. I got a record deal. I put out songs. And then I got famous. I met the celebrities, involved myself in bad situations, such as alcohol and smoke and sometimes drugs. But everyone loved me. The general public, the boys and girls. Everyone. I guess I was kind of high every day, high on the attention that the world was gifting me with, and high on the fame and money," Taylor licked her dry lips, eyes lost. "All these years, I've spent countless days and nights with insignificant people, slept with thousands of models and got everything I ever wanted. But I'm not okay. I feel like I'm wasting my time on all of this, on fucking bitches and lazing on the huge bed inside my huge mansion. I don't want to do this anymore. I don't want to be like this anymore. What I want right now, is for you to come home with me, drink a glass of red wine on the rooftop and just talk," Taylor finished her speech with a long, prolonged sigh. She swallowed, looking up at Karlie's eyes for the first time since admitting the skeletons of her closet. And then, she pleaded, quietly, "Please, come home with me."

And Karlie did.

The model followed her home, and sat on the rooftop with her, staring at the sky while Taylor smoked a few cigarettes. As the singer rested her back against the chair, looking exhausted, Karlie watched her under a new light. She didn't saw the dirty, pervert woman who tried to seduce whoever stumbled upon her. She didn't see the heartless bitch that the tabloids and the general public loved so much. She saw a fragile, delicate flower, with a slim stem and torn petals. But she had never seen someone so beautiful — eyes so blue that they made the ocean jealous, hair so blonde that seemed to shine under the daylight, and she was sure that if she ever touched it, gold grains would stain her fingertips. Her lips were full, pliant, and hid one of the most genuine and vulnerable smile underneath. The slight wrinkles around her eyes showed the battles she had overcome through her life, the loss of her parents, the struggles of getting through the hardships, the trials and tribulations. Taylor was a strong woman, who had never given up, not even when her whole body had been telling her to. And now that she was finally able to notice and appreciate her toughness, she made sure to enjoy every waking moment she spent with the singer.  
  


—  
  


Taylor and Karlie soon became friends.

Jake was happy for the singer, who apparently had started to glow ever since her improvement in her relationship with the model. Even Tree had noticed that something was different in Taylor, who started to be more gentle when replying to the publicist or to her demanding record label. But the more the singer spent time with her new friend, the more her feelings got deeper and scarier. It was like making a leap of faith, jumping headfirst into the unknown, and Taylor wasn't able to control whatever went through her head whenever she was in Karlie's company.

Their outings felt more like dates, whether it was at the cinema or at a fancy restaurant, Taylor's naturally charming and flirtatious nature always stood out the most. She always made sure to compliment whatever Karlie was wearing; from sweatpants and jumpers to sparkly dresses and elegant purses. And the model would always reward her with shy smiles and adorable blushing cheeks.

"Tonight was so much fun," Karlie giggled, as they stood outside Taylor's door. "Thank you."

"Anytime," the singer smiled softly. She stared at the model's face, half covered by the shadow as the other was illuminated by the lamppost. Tonight, she felt brave enough to say, "Come inside. Just for a moment."

Karlie looked at her, uncertain. Nevertheless, the model nodded nervously, and followed her inside the apartment. Taylor dropped her keys on the table of her kitchen.

"Can I make you a drink?"

"Just water, please."

The after party they've been to had been awfully amazing. The music was still buzzing in their ears, and the silence inside the room was almost deafening. So Karlie filled it with her voice, and tried not to let on her agitation.

"You never showed me your room," she said, placing her empty glass on the kitchen island. Taylor looked at her, arms folded behind her back and weight leaning against the counter. "I mean, I showed you mine. It's only fair you show me yours," she chuckled.

The singer looked at her for a moment, a pensive frown on her lips. "Do you want to see it now?" Taylor asked lowly, detaching from the marble surface. Karlie swallowed.

"If you want to, yeah."

Taylor smiled, eerily, and with a quick nod of her head she silently told her to trail behind her. On the stairs, Karlie admired her fit body, how the blazer of her black suit was tight around her shoulders. They reached Taylor's bedroom, the wooden floor creaking beneath their feet. Karlie looked around herself as the singer stood in the middle, beside her bed. There were frames, pictures of family and childhood friends. On the far corner stood a guitar, and from her position Karlie could still see the dust on the strings. A few journals were on Taylor's night table, and the model wondered how many secrets lied between those pages.

"It suits you," Karlie commented, still looking around, perhaps too afraid to meet Taylor's gaze. She could feel her blue eyes bore a hole in the side of her head. "It's very simple and meaningful. I like it,"

The grey walls around her almost felt suffocating when Karlie turned and saw the strange look on Taylor's face. The door was closed, and Karlie was trapped. She saw the gears work inside the singer's mind, and the tense silence flowing between them left them shaking with anticipation.

And then Taylor did the one thing she had been wanting to do for a very long time; she lunged forward, and kissed her. Their lips collided with force, like stormy waves against sharp rocks. The singer grabbed her face, wanting to feel her as close to her as possible. Taylor was eager, rough, and incredibly impatient, her touch hard against Karlie's skin. But her lips were soft, pliant and full, a contrast compared to her movements, and they pressed against Karlie's with urgency.

The singer pushed her against the door, a thud echoing around the room along with the sound of clashing lips and heavy breathing. Karlie moaned, unable to keep up with Taylor's fast space as she let herself be dominated by the singer's tongue.

Taylor put her hands on Karlie's hips, harshly pressing her against the door and holding her firmly. It was almost painful to the model, but she liked all of this; the rush, the adrenaline. She enjoyed every single moment as she tangled her hands in the singer's blonde hair and tugged gently, just to evoke a reaction out of her.

When Taylor groaned and lifted her up in the air, Karlie gasped when her legs wrapped around the singer's waist and her center touched her taut abdomen, still covered with the button down shirt.

"Is this okay," Taylor breathed in her mouth, and Karlie wondered how something so beautiful, so good, could ever be wrong.

"Yes," she nodded, eagerly reconnecting their lips. Taylor tasted like nicotine and all the bad thoughts she was too afraid to unveil.

The singer then took her to bed, carefully placing her down on the sheets in order to get rid of the blazer and of the black pants. Karlie watched her in awe as new expanses of skin were slowly but intently revealed to her awaiting eyes. When the singer had nothing but a bra and underwear on, the model moaned at the heavenly sight, and was so caught up in admiring her body that she let out a gasp when she was suddenly being pushed down on her back.

Taylor straddled her waist and recaptured her lips in a breathtaking kiss, her plump lips holding Karlie's thin ones between them. The singer sucked and nipped the sensitive skin of her mouth, and Karlie found herself unable to stop the sinful noises out of her lips.

"Let's get this off," Taylor mumbled quietly, and she rolled on her side and sat on her knees in the middle of the bed, inviting Karlie to do the same but turn her back to the singer. When the model was on her knees, the side of her legs against Taylor's thighs in order to fit like puzzle pieces, she felt her nimble fingers slowly slide down the zip on the back of her dress. She arched her back at the tingling sensation of Taylor's breath against her neck, and she loved the feeling of her butt pressed against Taylor's pelvis. The singer kissed the skin beneath her ear, paying particularly attention to the earlobe and biting it gently.

When Karlie was finally out of her cocktail dress, Taylor tossed it to the side and immediately got rid of her own bra. The singer wrapped her arms around Karlie's abdomen, bringing her closer so that the model's back was flush against Taylor's naked front. Karlie held back a high pitched moan when she felt the singer's nipples graze her shoulder blades.

"You like this?" Taylor asked quietly, sounding breathless as her arms circled Karlie's waist. The model held onto her forearms as one of the singer's hands went upwards and cupped one of her small breasts. Taylor kneaded it expertly, kissing the length of Karlie's neck while also teasing the model's low abdomen. "Uh? You like this?"

Karlie could only moan as a response, as Taylor's fingers finally slid past her panties and touched her where she needed her the most. The singer began to circle her clit, avoiding it in order to make her suffering last longer. Karlie writhed in her arms, her breathing erratic as she threw her head back. Taylor saw this as an opportunity to drag her tongue along the side of her exposed throat, and Karlie moaned loudly, feeling incredibly overwhelmed by the crippling desire.

But then, unexpectedly, Taylor thrusted two fingers inside of her, and a collective moan was heard echo in the bedroom. The singer panted behind her as her digits slid in and out easily. "You're so wet," Taylor moaned, the hand on Karlie's breast squeezing harder and pinching her nipple. "So wet," she whispered, breath hot and sinful against Karlie's neck.

The model lustfully met each thrust of Taylor's hand with her bucking hips, and she felt almost dirty, to be moaning so loudly the singer's name and having the other woman curse in her ear and encourage her to come for her.

Karlie reached behind her, tangling her left hand into Taylor's hair and pulling, while the other wrapped around the singer's wrist and pushed her fingers deeper inside of herself. The model kept her eyes shut, the impending high coming towards her at an alarming speed.

But before she could arch her back and get to her release, she felt Taylor's fingers momentarily slip out of her. And before she could complain, Taylor fiercely pushed her against the mattress, head on the pillow and hands pinned behind her back.

She heard Taylor moan, and soon a sinful sound of her own came out of her mouth as she felt the singer's fingers enter her slit from behind. Taylor resumed her rushed and rough activities, and accompanied her hard and deep thrusts by bucking her own hips against Karlie's behind. And the more she pushed, the more the singer breathed erratically and groaned behind her. The model kept her mouth open but no sounds came out, and she let her cheek rest against the pillow in order to be able to look at Taylor's pleasured face. Her blue eyes were focused on the movement of both their hips and her fingers, and Karlie had never seen something more beautiful and erotic than the sight of Taylor kneeling behind her.

When the model was about to reach her high, Taylor let go of her wrists and instead grabbed a handful of her blonde hair, tugging it strongly. Karlie placed one of her hands against the pillow, beside her flushed face, while the other went up to clutch the headboard.

"Come for me," she heard Taylor say between erratic breathes. "Come for me, baby,"

It was then that she felt an incredibly fuzzy wave wash over her, the sensation rendering her momentarily dizzy as she held onto the pillow for dear life. Taylor held her hips, helping her ride out her orgasm as she let out a long and loud moan.

When she collapsed against the mattress, Taylor's body fell beside her own, and she laid her cheek on the other side of the pillow so she could see the singer. She lazily opened her eyes, her body still trembling, and smiled when seeing the strange look Taylor was giving her.

"What?" she asked, confused.

Taylor caressed her cheek and intertwined their naked legs. "You're beautiful."

Karlie leaned in and kissed her slowly. She didn't know what this meant for them. Taylor was gorgeous, she had an energy that constantly pulled the model towards her, and she was irresistible. And the way the singer had just treated her; kissing her senselessly, skilled fingers making Karlie reach place she's never been. The model had felt like an animal, Taylor's rough and urgent demeanor turning her on more than she would like to admit. And she wanted to return the favor. So desperately that she moaned against Taylor's mouth.

Karlie tried to get on top of the singer's fit body, her hands already gripping her sides, but Taylor stopped her with a slight push to the shoulders. "What are you doing?" the singer asked guardedly, eyes suspicious as they looked up into Karlie's unsure ones.

"I..." the model trailed off. "I want to return the favor."

Taylor stuttered. "You don't have to do that."

"I _want_ to."

She didn't understand Taylor's sudden nervousness. Her whole life, she had spent countless nights with nameless people, getting from them what she wanted the most. But now, as Karlie lied between her legs, she didn't comprehend her rejection. Sex was the thing Taylor loved the most, so why wasn't she up to it all of a sudden?

"Karlie, I can't."

"What? Why not?"

The singer breathed deeply, looking anxious. "It's been awhile since...I've been touched by someone else."

"What do you mean?"

"When I have sex with other people, I never let them return the favor. I'm a little...insecure. I don't like it when I'm not in control, when I feel powerless, and letting you _fuck_ me right now...that would mean that I let you have control over my body, and I don't...I don't know if I'm able to do that."

Taylor's explanation suddenly made Karlie feel a wave of compassion for the other woman. The model stroked her cheek, and only then did she realize how tense Taylor was beneath her, how stiff her body felt under hers. "You don't have to be afraid. If you don't want to do it, then we don't have to—,"

"I want to do it. It's just..." Taylor struggled to find the right words. "I'm just nervous."

Karlie smiled tentatively at her. "I'll take it slow, okay? And if you ever want me to stop, then just say the words and I won't go further."

Taylor nodded, and that was all the consent she needed. Karlie leaned in, heart beating rapidly inside her chest as she connected their lips. The kiss was gentle, a contrast to the rushed and rough pace that the singer had set before, and Karlie tried to coax her into peacefulness. She took her time, kissing her slowly and fully appreciating the softness and the fullness of Taylor's lips. She licked her bottom lip, and cupped her neck when she slipped her tongue inside her mouth. The singer moaned, but it was restrained, as if Taylor was holding back and not truly letting go.

Karlie allowed herself to be confident and daring, her hands now exploring the expanses of creamy skin of Taylor's body. She felt the taut muscles relax underneath her eager fingertips, and focused her attention on the singer's neck, sinking her teeth just below her jaw and forming a bruise. Taylor hissed, but held her tighter, her ankles locking her in as she wrapped them around Karlie's calves.

The model's lips started kissing lower, until they reached the swell of her adequate breasts, and one of her impatient hands opted to knead one of them. Karlie's mouth closed around the erect bud of Taylor's nipple, and she let out a sound of her own at the sensation of the singer arching into her. The older woman threw her head back and moaned, but the sound was still strangled, as if she was still too afraid of making too much noise.

Despite not being the one dominating the action, Taylor still held control over her, as her hands gripped the back of Karlie's neck and pushed her downwards.

But the model had other plans.

First, she took off Taylor's underwear, witnessing the look of pure surprise and awe on her face as she tossed it away. Then, determined, she grabbed the singer's thighs and wrapped her legs around her waist, feeling the warmth coming from between them. She had to admit that she didn't have a lot of experience with women, and she tried not to let her nervousness show, since she was about to have sex with Taylor Swift, _the_ womanizer of America. Karlie didn't want to disappoint her; if there was one thing she despised the most, it was letting down other people.

She tried to distract the singer by kissing her senselessly, with all the urgency she had bottled up in the past months, and she felt Taylor's lips kiss her back with the same amount of rush and adrenaline. The singer tangled her hands in her hair, and pulled, evoking a light moan from the model above her. Karlie let her fingers rest atop her abdomen, which rose and fell with each labored breath Taylor took, and let their tips tease the soft and hard skin of the singer.

The model pushed the weight of her body more against the other woman, as she bucked her hips forward and into Taylor's. The singer broke the kiss, breathless, and Karlie took advantage of this moment to thrust two fingers inside her slit and gauge her reaction.

Taylor's hands immediately flew and grasped her shoulders, her mouth wide open and eyes staring directly into the model's soul. Karlie saw fear inside her blue irises, as the walls around her digits kept on clenching. And the more Taylor tried to keep her inside of her, the more the singer's breath harshly fanned Karlie's face. The model soon realized that she wasn't loud, that she liked to keep it quiet, and the moans coming out of her perfect plush, parted lips were silent, almost like a phantom wandering lost inside a huge and unknown mansion.

But then, Karlie tried to do to her what Taylor had done to her a few moments ago; perhaps she liked it rough, perhaps she liked the adrenaline rush. Either way, she pushed her fingers a little deeper, her movements a little harsher, and began kissing her neck while attempting to act like a hungry animal. She bucked her hips, she curled her fingers inside of her, she nipped her jaw. And Taylor reacted the way Karlie wanted her to. She let go, her nails dug crescent moons in her shoulder blades, and her moans grew louder, became more frequent and less restrained. The singer held onto her back, hugging her close as Karlie's fingers kept hitting the sweetest spots inside of Taylor. The model tried to kiss her, but it was useless, as the blonde threw her head back and bit her own bottom lip.

"Kar—Karlie, I'm—," Taylor stuttered, and Karlie moaned against her neck upon hearing the pleasure in her voice. "—I'm close. Fuck,"

"It's okay," the model whispered in her ear, nipping her earlobe and quickening the pace of her hand. "Let it go. Let it go," she encouraged. Taylor let her hands roam her back, before she scratched it and moaned loudly. She arched her body, and the sight beneath her was marvelous to Karlie's green eyes, which admired the singer achieve her deserved high with awe. Taylor's walls clenched almost painfully around her fingers, and Karlie didn't pull out until she was sure that the singer was finished.

Karlie kissed her neck, jaw and cheek, before dropping her body beside Taylor's. She breathed heavily, the singer still shaking with the aftermath of her orgasm. Then, quietly, Taylor sat up, and moved to the edge of the bed, her shoulders rising and falling frenetically, showing how much she was out of breath from their strenuous activity. The model noticed a few faint scars on her lower back, but said nothing. Karlie watched her as she got up and walked, naked, towards the bathroom. She heard the sound of the faucet and of water running, and after a few moments, Taylor came back, looking refreshed. The model almost expected her to pick up her clothes, dress herself and then flee far away from her. Because Taylor didn't do relationships. She never stayed after the act of sex. She always left.

But this time she didn't.

Although hesitantly, perhaps a little frightened, she slipped under the covers Karlie had pulled over her bare form, and snuggled closer to the model. Karlie held back a smile, and put her arms around her body as soon as Taylor hugged her waist and put her chin on her shoulder. Neither of them spoke, and Karlie preferred it that way, because even though there was the possibility that she had screwed up, that their friendship was over, she still got to fall asleep with Taylor beside her. And that was a luxury that she didn't take for granted.  
  


—  
  


Despite having no idea how a relationship truly worked, Taylor still agreed to become Karlie's girlfriend. Everyone was skeptical; from Tree Paine and Jake to the model's own doubtful friends, who had tried to talk some sense into her, telling her that this wasn't rational, that this was not going to end up well.

"Stop telling me what to do! It is _my_ relationship, not yours!"

"Karlie, she's a player! She doesn't date, it's just not in her blood. Do you seriously expect her to suddenly become the perfect girlfriend for you?!"

"You don't know her like I do!"

Cara was the most stubborn of her friends. Lily, the oldest in their group, tried to calm down the boiling tension in the dressing room. "Girls, come on. We have a runway waiting for us. Let's be professional and talk about it later."

She glanced from Cara to Karlie, who still didn't want to let this go. The support of her friends was the most important thing to her, why couldn't Cara just be happy for her? "Just give her a chance, Cara. She's the sweetest person ever, I know that she looks like she's covered in ice and has an armor of steel around her, but she's really nice. She would never hurt me on purpose."

"How do you know that? How are you so sure that she's not going to replace you with another fucktoy in a few months? How are you sure that she's not going to get tired of this?"

Karlie stared at her as Lily intervened. "Cara, stop. We have a show."

But the American model continued. "You don't know her, you don't get to talk about her like that."

Cara scoffed and fixed her dress while looking at her reflection in the mirror. "I don't care. I don't like her."

Gigi knocked at their door and peered in. "Girls, the show's about to start," she sensed the tension between Cara and Karlie, and sent Lily a questioning look, who refused to give her a verbal answer. Instead, they went out, and Karlie tried her best not to act affected by her friend's words. She put on a mask, a steely look on her face, the look she used when she walked the runway, and managed to get through the two hour long fashion show. And when the group walked backstage and made their way to their dressing room, Karlie's heart jumped in her throat when she spotted Taylor — beautiful, handsome, charismatic Taylor — standing in front of the door, bunch of roses in her hand and wearing the most elegant black and white pantsuit. Her hair was messy, a clear sign that Taylor had run her hand through it multiple times in the last hour, but she was still the most beautiful woman she had ever seen; with hesitant and sparkling blue eyes and a breathtaking grin on her lips. The singer greeted all of them, but planted a chaste kiss on Karlie's lips and gave her the flowers with a pink blush on her cheeks. And it was in moments like this, that the model realized that Taylor was really trying her best. That even though she had no idea how all of this truly worked, she still attempted to be her best self.

"Hey, thought it would be nice to surprise you," Taylor said nervously, her hand tugging at her wavy blonde hair. Karlie stared at her, speechless, before the only thing that she wanted to do was kiss her, and so she did just that, not caring that her friends were around. She heard Cara groan, and saw the insecurities bloom inside the singer's blue eyes.

"It's okay. Thank you, I love the flowers," _I love you_ , the thought had been impossible to stop, and Karlie blushed hard. She knew that, months ago, the only thing that was left to do for her was fall head over heels for this woman, so she wasn't that surprised when she finally came to the realization that she was, in fact, in love with Taylor.

"Flowers," Cara muttered. "How banal,"

The singer looked at her with strange eyes, but only Karlie could see the hurt and remorse in them. She wanted to say something to her friend, who so obviously made it clear to Taylor that she despised her, but Lily stopped her, placing a hand on her shoulder. Her other friends kindly greeted her girlfriend, before all retreating to the dressing room, leaving them alone.

"I see that Cara is my biggest fan," Taylor joked, but there was no humor in her voice. Karlie saw right through her.

"Give her some time. She will get used to this,"

The singer nodded, but she still seemed uncertain and not completely convinced. "Do you want to get out of here?"

Karlie didn't need to be asked twice.  
  


—  
  


Sex with Taylor was still one of the parts of their relationship that left her breathless and bewildered, because it was not possible that one single human could be _that_ good at it. But Taylor was.

Perched on the singer's lap and trapped between Taylor's body and the steering wheel, Karlie eagerly snatched the black and loose tie from around her neck. She quickly latched her lips on the sensitive and tempting skin of her collarbones, and the hungriest part of her made her buck her hips forward, grinding against the singer's thighs.

Taylor let out a low chuckle, a sound that sounded like heaven to Karlie's ears. "Easy there, tiger,"

The singer quickly pushed the fabric of her dress up until it reached her waist. Expertly, she shoved her panties aside and thrusted two fingers past her opening. Karlie moaned loudly, surprised at the sudden but welcoming change, as Taylor quickly set a fast and urgent pace.

She felt the singer tilt up her chin with her free hand, her thumb placed firmly against her cheekbone to keep her in place as Karlie met Taylor's stormy gaze. The model soon realized that one thing that Taylor loved the most, was watching her reaction as the singer senselessly fucked her. Karlie met each deep thrust with her hips, loving the friction of Taylor's palm against her clit, and it took everything in her not to roll her eyes back and arch her back. She held her stare weakly, Taylor's blue and dark eyes never leaving her face.

Then, the singer leaned in and kissed her. Deeply. Her tongue traced every corner of Karlie's mouth, and the model placed her right hand against the fogged window while the other stayed glued to Taylor's shoulder. The first few buttons of the singer's button down shirt were undone, and she looked so damn sexy in that moment, kissing her like there was no tomorrow while three of her fingers were buried deep inside Karlie.

The model came undone five minutes later, with Taylor's name on her lips. The singer kissed and nipped her jaw, steading her with a hand on her waist as Karlie's grinding slowed down, until she stopped moving altogether.

The model, with her girlfriend's help, fixed the hem of her dress and plopped down on the passenger seat. She was out of breath, her heart was still pounding, there was a line of sweat on her forehead, but the pleasant feeling of fatigue overwhelmed her in the best way possible. Karlie felt Taylor's eyes on her, and she heard the singer fumble with her blazer and her pants.

"That was hot," the model commented, lying against the leather passenger seat. She closed her eyes, whimpering when another wave of aftershocks shook her body.

Taylor cockily smiled her way. "I know,"

Karlie only rolled her eyes at the singer's confidence. "Shut up,"

The singer chuckled quietly. "I'll take you home."

Karlie fell asleep on the way home, and soon Taylor was left alone with her mind. For the entirety of the ride, she kept thinking back to the words Cara had said a few weeks ago, of how the British model still didn't like her despite having been with Karlie for four months now. She drove slower than usual, her own mind going down on a spiral of negative, self-destructing thoughts.

Taylor couldn't remember the last time she's cared so much about someone. Karlie was so sudden, a streak of light in the midst of a never ending darkness. She had never seen her coming.

When the singer finally arrived in front of Karlie's apartment, she felt bad about having the need to wake her up, because she looked so peaceful, so angelic. She sighed, getting out of the car and entering the building alone. Once she opened all of the doors, she carried Karlie inside, one arm under her knees and the other around her back. The model unconsciously wrapped her own hands around her neck, holding onto her for dear life. Taylor breathed in the scent of Karlie's apartment once she was inside, and easily took her to her bedroom. She gently eased down her body under the sheets, and tucked her in as if she was the most precious thing to her. Taylor caressed her cheek, and stayed for a few minutes.

_I don't deserve you._

The singer felt her heart clench at the thought, one that had never left her mind in the last few weeks. Taylor recalled all the times Karlie had been sad _because_ of her, of their relationship. She recalled all the times they had a fight, about how Taylor lacked communication skills most of the time. She recalled the hard times, how they had begun to outnumber the good ones. She knew that Cara wasn't the only friend that suggested Karlie to get out of this relationship. She knew that Karlie needed a good reason to leave her. And maybe fighting with Taylor wasn't enough for her. Despite believing that this could be a good relationship, Taylor knew that this was toxic. That she wasn't good for her. That she was undeserving of someone like Karlie. But Karlie didn't know. Or at least, she didn't want to believe so.

Taylor just wanted her to be happy. And she couldn't be if she stayed with Taylor.   
  


—  
  


Taylor knew that Karlie had seen the news. She knew as soon as she saw the exhausted look in her face, the puffy bags under her tired out green eyes. They lacked their usual spark, and they barely lit up when they saw Taylor walk through the door of her apartment. The singer dreaded this conversation. She dreaded facing reality, the future argument that would soon strike the room. She slowly placed her bag on the coffee table, not even taking off her leather jacket, because she knew that this would be over soon. That it would be just a matter of minutes before she lost Karlie completely.

"It's been a while," the model's voice was tentative, as she stayed behind Taylor. The singer sighed internally, mentally preparing herself as she turned around to face her.

And there Karlie was, fiddling hands, nervous smile, a lazy comfortable outfit covering her body. She looked beautiful. She looked like everything Taylor needed. "Yeah," she replied, voice hoarse and deep.

And then, unexpectedly, Karlie crossed the living room, catching her off guard and kissing her desperately. The amount of urgency that moved the model's lips against her own made Taylor shut her eyes, ice completely turning her whole body cold and frozen. She needed to do this. She needed to set her free. And in order to do that, she couldn't be weak and let herself be engulfed by Karlie's want of having sex with her.

Taylor pushed her away, hands putting pressure on strong shoulders. They were both breathless, and the look of pure exasperation inside Karlie's eyes made this all the more difficult.

"Taylor, what's wrong?"

"I just don't want to do this right now," it was a lame excuse, and they both knew it. Taylor just didn't have the strength to already push the knife inside Karlie's weak heart.

"I, ugh, what do you mean? You always want to do that and now suddenly you don't?"

There is frustration in her voice. "Karlie, leave me the fuck alone," Taylor muttered more harshly than she intended.

But Karlie was stubborn. "No, we are talking about this. It's been weeks since we've last seen each other, and now that I want to be with you, you're acting weird and shit. Tell me what's wrong, you know you can talk to me."

Taylor clenched her jaw. "I don't want to talk about this."

She didn't know why she was dragging on. Something inside of her still told her that maybe she could fix this, that she could fix _herself_ , but the other part told her that it was a lost cause. Karlie deserved better.

"Taylor,"

"Karlie, stop! I said leave me alone."

"No, I won't! We're together, you're supposed to talk to me when something's wrong. You shouldn't push me away."

Taylor momentarily turned away from her, closing her eyes and thinking about how to approach this. There was no easy way, she would hurt the model anyway.

"Okay, you wanna talk about it?! _Fine_! I don't want to do this anymore. I'm tired. I'm tired of all this."

Karlie stayed silent for a moment, a silence that was both eerie quiet and painfully loud. "What do you mean?"

"God, you're not that stupid, aren't you? I said I'm done."

"Taylor..."

"I said I'm done. _We're_ done."

Karlie desperately pulled at her own hair and the sight was heartbreaking. "This is so out of the blue, Taylor, I don't understand, please."

And then, the singer took in a deep breath. "I cheated on you. I fucking cheated on you. With another woman," she said quickly, wanting this to be already over. When Karlie's eyes contorted and filled with tears, Taylor held her gaze firmly as the model started crying. The singer told herself that she needed to look tough, to look as if this didn't affect her. And then, "We should have never gotten together. This was wrong from the very start. I don't know how relationships work, I don't know how you believed that this could work out."

"Taylor, please, I don't want you to—,"

"Stop! I said I cheated on you!"

_Why does she insists? She should hate me._

"I know," Karlie whispers, nodding her head as more tears fell from her eyes.

"I cheated on you! I fucking cheated on you."

"I know, I know!"

Karlie was sobbing, clutching her own chest as she gripped the headrest of the couch. Taylor clenched her jaw and fists, breath ragged and throat blocked by an enormous lump. "You shouldn't want to keep on doing this. You shouldn't want _me_. You deserve better than me, Karlie. You deserve someone who treats you better than this."

"I want _you_ ," Karlie whimpered, reaching out and touching Taylor's fists. The sight was painful to watch, and the singer couldn't help but tear up.

"I cheated on you." she whispered.

"Stop repeating that."

"I _cheated_ on you,"

"Taylor stop," Karlie begged.

"I cheated—,"

"Stop! Fuck, stop! I know, I know! But I still want _you_ , I don't care about that, I _want_ you!"

Taylor firmly shook her head as she finally let a tear roll down her cheek. "No, you don't. I'm just a good fuck. Nothing else. I'm...setting you free. I want you to be happy, to be in a healthier relationship, not this. I'm not good _for_ you. I'm toxic. And you _know_ that."

"I know," Karlie covered face and cried harder. "I know."

"Then let me go. You're better off without me," it pained Taylor to say this, but it was the truth. And sometimes the truth wasn't what we wanted it to be.

"That's not true," Karlie determinedly shook her head. The tears stained her chin and fell on Taylor's shoes.

"Yes, it is."

"Taylor..."

"No, Karlie. You deserve better than this. Just let go of me," Taylor whispered the last part, her resolve crumbling as she finally cried.

"No, I won't."

"Karlie..."

"I won't let go of you!"

Taylor broke free from the grip around her wrists and she took a few steps back. She grabbed her bag, ready to leave. "Jesus, Karlie..."

But _then_ Karlie said it.

"I love you! I _fucking_ love you!"

Silence settled upon them. Taylor is stunned, almost dropping her things to the ground. She remained still, speechless, not believing her ears as she stared at the completely defenseless model. Karlie cried and her sobs echoed in the room. Their sound and her confession was worse than a death by a thousand cuts.

"I love you Taylor, I fucking _love_ you. I'm fucking in love with _you_!"

But Taylor couldn't do this. She couldn't bear the sight of Karlie, falling apart before her very own eyes. Her heart inside her chest begged her to run. She wasn't sure if towards or far away from Karlie.

Nevertheless, as the model waited for a response, hoping that this could make Taylor stay, the singer turned her back on her.

And left.  
  


—  
  


Karlie couldn't stop looking at the photos that the paparazzi had taken merely three days ago. She couldn't stop staring at the _evidence_ that showed that Taylor had effectively cheated on her. With another woman. A _model._ A young, jovial model. The images, although slightly blurred, depicted the two in an intimate embrace, the singer's arms around the other girl's waist. The model's face was shrouded, not visible to the intrusive lenses of the cameras, but Karlie saw the way Taylor's eyes momentarily looked directly at the paparazzi, before the following photo showed the couple passionately engaged in a kiss in the middle of the back exit of a restaurant. Despite having seen this image multiple times over the course of the last twenty four hours, it still pained her endlessly.

She threw her device somewhere, not caring where it landed, before collapsing on top of the mattress and letting out a strangled sob. Karlie clutched her pillow, which still faintly smelled of Taylor, and shut her eyes. But the more she squeezed them, the more the paparazzi photos became more vivid, as if she was directly before the scene and witnessing it in real life.

The model screamed, the sound losing its energy as soon as it was muffled by the pillow. She punched the headboard, the memories she had created with Taylor over the past months repeated inside her mind, stuck inside her head as if it was a contagious song.

She couldn't believe that she had let this happen, despite knowing that it would have been a risky leap of faith to do when she had first kissed Taylor back. She knew that it would have ended up in flames, the two of them parting ways before the new year. And Karlie hated how correct she truly was. She hated the fact that Taylor hadn't proven her wrong. That she hadn't proven her friends wrong. _Dammit_. Karlie still needed to inform her friends. _Dammit, dammit._ She knew what their reactions would be like. A stream of nonsense, _"I told you,",_ and, _"I knew it_ , _",_ and again, _"I knew she was a bitch._ "

She didn't want to hear it. She couldn't bear the truth, even though it was all she needed to face at the moment in order to move on, because Taylor had made her choice. And, sadly, she wasn't part of it.  
  


—  
  


"So, the Rolling Stones cover on Wednesday and Vogue on Friday?"

"Yeah, whatever you want,"

Tree Paine briefly stared at her. There was a question ready to spill from her eyes, but there was no will from Taylor's part to answer it. Her publicist already knew the answer. All she needed was just a confirmation.

"So, um," Tree started, not knowing how to approach this subject. When Taylor had come in the conference room that morning, she terribly smelled like nicotine and something that was probably Vodka or Whiskey. The light in her eyes was absent, and she was miserable, to say the least. Her shoulders were slouched, she was dismissive, and she wasn't up to have a normal conversation, with anybody. But Tree needed to tell her. She needed the singer to be professional today, to push aside emotions and private life, even though it was hard to do such thing. "—they're probably going to ask you questions about Karlie—,"

Taylor reacted; she groaned loudly, stood up, lit up a cigarette and smoked with her head leaning outside the window. At least she was respecting Tree's wishes. It surprised the publicist, how the singer had finally considered her feelings. It was unusual for Taylor.

"You've made your relationship public a few months ago so it's expected that they would want to know the details,"

Tree stayed silent, offering Taylor some time to answer. She watched the singer breathe out a cloud of smoke, her back shaking with a slight cough. Then, she looked up, stared at the view of a chaotic Los Angeles, and finally said something. "There are no _juicy_ details," she said quietly. She brought the cigarette to her lips and inhaled sharply. "Not anymore," she whispered as an afterthought.

Tree took that as an indirect confirmation that what she had seen on the news the other day was, in fact, true. Karlie and Taylor were broken up. Taylor had cheated on Karlie with a younger model, an unknown and rising star in the fashion industry. Karlie had been furious, and therefore decided to call it quits. But something about it was still off for the publicist; judging by Taylor's reaction, that wasn't everything that was needed to know about their abrupt and painful parting.

"Well, they will want to know if you have a story with that Rodriguez model and—,"

"There's no story to tell, no story to sell. I'm—," Taylor paused sharply, jaw clenched. "—I'm single. That was just—a one-time thing."

Tree smelled lies. Taylor's whole body was stiff, and it told her that what she had just said wasn't completely true. "Okay," she said nevertheless. "I just wanted to give you a heads up. If you want me to blacklist those kind of questions, I can do that."

Taylor pushed the butt of the cigarette against the railing and threw it away. She turned around, and Tree only saw a phantom before her.

"It's okay. I will answer those damn questions."

The singer walked towards the door, taking her things along the way, making it obvious that she was over their conversation. "Taylor?"

Taylor halted her hand and let it hover above the handle. She turned her head sideways and Tree pursed her lips. "Yeah?"

"Are you alright?"

The singer bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood. "No," she answered truthfully, briefly catching Tree's eyes. "But I'll be. Don't worry."

And with that, she left the conference room.   
  


—  
  


Eventually, Karlie's friends found out. And what surprised her the most, was that their reaction hadn't been the one that she had predicted. No _I told you_ were uttered, no _I knew it_. She had told them all at once, when they had agreed to meet at her place and have a girls night in. Karlie had wept when the truth had been out of her lips; the only difference was, that all of them had wrapped her in a group hug. There had been no words at first. They had just let her cry it out, even though everything Karlie had done for the past days had been crying, whether it was under the shower or just before falling asleep. And surprisingly, Cara had been the one to break the ice. "There is plenty of fish in the sea. Don't get sad just because you lost one that you thought was more special than the others," she had said. There was no humor in her voice, no sarcasm or hate in her British accent. There was just a little bit of concern, love, and understanding. She had had her heart

broken, so she knew what Karlie was going through. Lily had made a sound of approval, squeezing her hand as Karlie had nodded, wiping the tears from her wet cheeks. And then, after they had made a few jokes to lighten up the mood, they had completely changed the subject once they knew that Karlie was okay. They had watched a few films, and the model had hated herself when she had imagined herself and Taylor in the various love stories that had been showed on the television.

As she made breakfast, the morning news filling her empty and silent kitchen, she looked out the window and thought about Taylor. No matter what, the singer was still the first thought that graced her mind when she woke up and the last one that left her mind when she went to sleep. Karlie wondered what she was up to; if she was fine, if she had started something with Rodriguez or if she had gone back to her usual, womanizer self. Either way, no matter how much pain she had brought her, she missed her. She missed her warm and charming presence, her deep laugh, her raspy voice, her scent. Her body, her hands. But what she missed the most were her eyes. Those blue, intense and mischievous eyes. She missed the glint inside of them whenever she made a dirty joke and succeeded in making her laugh. The way they looked like a stormy ocean when she was angry. The way they looked so hungry and predatory when Taylor was above her. And she missed the sex. She missed the moments after sex. The cigarette she would often smoke outside the window when wearing only underwear and a loose tee. She missed when they fell asleep, tangled in a mess of limbs. She missed the way Taylor looked when she was sleeping; so young, and so damn innocent to her eyes.

The coffee maker made a shrilling noise, the one that brought her back to reality as it signaled that her morning coffee was ready. With a sigh, she poured the hot and dark liquid in a cup, and only when she noticed that she had accidentally chosen Taylor's favorite mug did she release an incredulous laugh. One that soon turned into a sad frown.

Karlie watched some television, only because she wanted to distract herself from the maze of memories inside her brain. The model talked to her mom, the soothing voice of the older woman coming from the phone bringing some warmth to her cold heart. When she hung up, her thumb hovered above Taylor's contact as it screamed among all the other numbers of her contact list. She had called her a few times over the last two weeks, when she was drunk, but Taylor had never answered. And Karlie only had the guts to send her voicemails.

The day progressed, and it turned out to be boring and useless. She went to the gym, called a few friends, made programs for future hang outs. She went to a shoot, but she knew that she hadn't given her best. The photographer had assured the model that she had been perfect, but she knew better. She hadn't felt herself ever since that night Taylor had walked out of her apartment.

Karlie ordered a pizza, and waited for it to arrive by watching trash television series.

She furrowed her brow when the doorbell echoed. _I ordered just a few minutes ago. The pizzeria is twenty minutes from here._ Karlie stood up nevertheless and with a grim look walked towards the door. She should have checked the peephole, because if she had, she wouldn't have been that surprised when she revealed the person standing on the other side of the door.

Taylor was a mess. Her hair was disheveled, her eyes and lips bare of any make-up, and she smelled like nicotine and alcohol but also of roses and leather. Her clothes were untidy, the last two buttons of her button down shirt unfastened and a little hole, almost hard to catch, was on her black pants. The blazer hung from one of her shoulders, and she was shaking. Taylor looked horrible, but to Karlie, she was still the most beautiful and desirable woman she had ever laid her eyes upon.

"Taylor—,"

"I love you."

The statement caught her off guard. It felt like the hood of a speeding car had hit her side, and she felt dizzy, suddenly. Taylor started profusely crying, and she didn't even bother to cover her face when ugly tears stained her incredibly flat cheekbones. Karlie could only stare, speechless for a moment.

"Taylor, what are you—,"

"Karlie, I love you. I have loved you since the very first time I saw you at that bar. I know you won't believe me, but it's the truth," the singer wept. Her voice broke every few seconds, and it made her words sound heartbreaking to Karlie's ears. "I love you, and I'm scared. I have never felt this way with someone, and you're just—you're just precious. You are an impeccable star who should never lose their spark, and I was overshadowing you. Our relationship was dimming you, and I didn't want that for you. _Fuck_ , I still don't want that. But I can't—I can't breathe if you're not with me. I can't breathe without you. Ever since we broke up two weeks ago, it felt like being underwater. And, _fuck_ , I love you. I am _in love_ with you," Taylor took a little step forward. "I never cheated on you with that model. The only reason why we were photographed kissing was because I wanted to give you a good reason to leave me. Because I wanted to set you free. I was being selfless. I wanted you to spread your wings. Go out there and find someone better than me. But I—," the singer's words were interrupted by a sob. "—I love _you_ , and I can't live without you. You are the only good thing in my life apart from music, and I _want_ you. Every day, every minute, every second. I want you with me. And I'm sorry. For everything. For making you suffer, for causing you useless pain, and I'm sorry. I'm _sorry_."

Karlie stayed glued to her spot as the words repeated inside her head like a broken record. Taylor loved her back. She couldn't live without her. She was sorry for everything. Taylor was _here_. In front of her, crying when she had never cried in front of her. And she had never cheated on her. It had been all a bluff. An act of selfness from the singer's part because she _loved_ Karlie and wanted her to be happy _without_ her. But how could she be happy without Taylor when she had been miserable ever since she had left her two weeks ago?

"Taylor..."

"I'm sorry," Taylor repeated, lowering her head in shame and shaking her head. "I don't know why I came here. I'm—," she stumbled, and only then did Karlie realize that she was slightly drunk. "—I'm tipsy, I went to a bar before coming here because I needed to drink something. It hurt too much coming here sober."

"Hey, just—," Karlie made a split decision. "—come inside. We can talk about it inside, alright?"

Taylor looked at her with a strange look. "You sure you don't hate me?"

The model took her hand and brought her inside. She lost herself in Taylor's slightly dark blue eyes and admitted sincerely, "I could _never_ hate you."

The singer sat on the couch, still trembling and holding onto Karlie's hand. "I'm _sorry_ ," she said quietly, looking up at the standing woman. Her voice was filled with immense regret, and for just a moment, the model forgot about all the sleepless nights spent crying because of the very same woman that was now apologizing to her. She forgot about all the pain, the heartache, how the time seemed to go slower without the singer by her side.

Karlie sighed and then let go of Taylor's hand. "Let's sober you up, alright? Then, we'll talk."

The older woman nodded and watched her walk towards the kitchen. There, Karlie allowed herself to take a deep breath and calm down her racing heart. She picked two glasses from the shelf and filled them with fresh water. Then, before going back to the living room, she took a moment for herself as she sighed. If she was being honest with herself, she didn't know what to do with the singer. Should she forgive her? Should she just kick her out and cut her out of her life? It would be easier to put all the trouble they've caused each other behind their backs, so that they could go back to the heavenly bubble they had carved for themselves in the last months. But it couldn't be that simple. Taylor had still left a deep wound in her heart; she had created insecurities where there had been none, she had made her feel like a used plastic toy, one she had become bored with. Taylor was still the same woman she had despised ever falling in love with; the best mistake she had ever committed.

"Karlie? Someone's knocking at the door,"

The model finally came back to earth, and hurriedly run towards the door. The pizza she had ordered moments before had arrived, and she quickly payed the delivery guy. She practically shoved the banknote on his hands and closed the door on his face, before returning to the living room with a sheepish smile. "Sorry for this," she muttered gently. Karlie handed the singer her glass of water, and Taylor watched her carefully.

"You don't have to apologize. I probably disturbed you, coming here unannounced."

"It's okay," Karlie reassured her. _Is it really?_

The singer fiddled with her hands on her lap as the model started eating her dinner. She offered a slice of pizza to Taylor, but the latter declined. It all almost felt like old times; eating on the couch side by side. Usually, one of them would talk, or the television would serve as the background noise. Tonight, though, silence kept them company as neither of them dared to open their mouths.

And it took Karlie ten minutes to finish her dinner. Karlie placed the empty cardboard of the pizza on the small coffee table in front of them, and then leaned back against the backrest of the couch, fearlessly facing Taylor, who was blatantly staring at her. The singer cleared her throat, blushing as she averted her eyes and lowered her head in shame.

"So..."

"I, um..."

They spoke at the same time, and both chuckled awkwardly. "You go first," Karlie said, forcing a smile on her face. Taylor nodded, fixing her blazer as she got more comfortable on her seat.

"I actually just said a lot of what I wanted to say earlier, so..." the singer began, sounding unsure. It was a rare sight, to see her retreat herself in her own shell. "—but there's just a _lot more_ to say, you know? For the past two weeks, I've felt like shit for what I've done to you, because I realized that I had actually made a mistake instead of making you happy by _cheating on you_ ," Taylor almost rolled her eyes at that. "So, I wanted to apologize for that. And after you and I broke up—I convinced myself to go see a therapist. To, I don't know, better myself, I guess. Because I wanted to be with you. I _want_ to be with you, for you to be mine and for me to be yours, but our relationship had a lot of empty holes. Mistakes and just—it wasn't going to work out. And for it to work out, I realized I needed to work on myself first. And so—yeah, I'm seeing a therapist."

Karlie nodded, surprised by the big announcement. She cleared her throat and shifted her weight. "Okay," she said slowly.

"I just—I just don't want to live without you, Karlie," Taylor's eyes watered once again and her voice trembled, as she determinedly met her gaze. "I understand if you don't want to be with me anymore, if you want to move on with your life and find a better person. I understand if you don't want to wait. I understand everything. But I just want you to know—you're the best thing that has ever happened to me. Know that you changed my life for the better, and that you made me come out of whatever shell I was trapped into. Know that thanks to you, I finally _see_ daylight again, because before you, all that I knew was darkness."

Karlie felt herself getting emotional at her words, and dabbed at her eyes as she looked away. She shouldn't be surprised, because words were Taylor's thing. Her work revolved around words. And yet, nobody had ever told her such soft yet intense things. The way Taylor looked at her, her eyes so resolved, so damn _blue_ ; it made her feel alive. She felt her words bring back to life something that had been dead for the past two weeks. And she had to thank the singer for that.

"I just..." she was at a loss for words.

Karlie wiped away a tear at the same time Taylor said, "Please, don't cry. I didn't mean to make you cry."

There are unshed tears on her own eyes as she said that, but still, the concern at the mere possibility that Karlie was crying sad tears, made the model weep harder. She let out a bittersweet laugh, as Taylor leaned a little more towards her. Karlie searched blindly for one of her hands as she closed her eyes and tried to stop the flow of tears. "I'm just so overwhelmed," she admitted quietly. The moment she grasped Taylor's hand, and the singer squeezed it three times, she bit her bottom lip to hold back a sob. The singer cupped her whole hand with both of her own, surrounding her cold world with only warmth. Taylor moved closer to her, their knees touching now. "I've waited for you to come back for two weeks now," she cried softly. "I've waited for this to happen for so long, and I'm just—so _relieved_ that you have finally realized that you're worth something. That you're not useless and that you should put your own happiness before anything else. I'm sorry that all of this went wrong. It's my fault, too. Don't blame only yourself for our break up, because in a relationship there are two people, and when it doesn't work out, both sides have failed, not just one."

Taylor nodded and listened carefully. "I know. But I wasn't good for you. We just—we did it wrong. All of it. We were too rushed, too reckless. But I want to do it right. I want to _make_ it right. For you. I want to begin again, Karlie. Take it slow, know each other fully. I want _us_ back, because I miss you, and I love you too much to just let you go."

Karlie wept harder, shoulders shaking as she leaned forward. Taylor took her in her arms, hesitantly at first, but then firmly, wrapping her arms around Karlie's back when the model all but collapsed against her. Now that she was finally back in Taylor's arms, she let go of all the excruciating pain she had felt during the singer's absence, and let the other woman soothe her heartbreak with gentle caresses on her back and soft fingers running through her hair. She gripped her shoulders, never wanting to let her go, and buried her head in the crook of her neck, her tears repeatedly hitting Taylor's bare skin. Her scent was intoxicating, the cure to her sleepless nights, the breath of fresh air in the early hours of morning. She was the warm rays of the sun on a snowy day, the calm waves after the storm. She was peacefulness, and she was grace. And Karlie was just glad that they had found each other again, instead of going their separate ways for the rest of their lives.

"I want us to be friends. Do it all from the start. And then, we'll see where that takes us, alright? We have all the time in the world," Taylor murmured in her hair. And then, "Right?" it was unsure, and Karlie heard all of her doubts in that single word. The model held her tighter and nodded.

"Yes. We have all the time in the world."  
  


—  
  


During the following months, Karlie witnessed how Taylor gradually changed into a more collected, confident woman. It wasn't the confidence she had had the previous years, the one that she used to allure women. It was a confidence that showed itself in the way she stood; chin held high, shoulders back, steps more firm and voice less shaking. The model didn't know how it was possible, but it rendered her even more beautiful. A type of beautiful she was attracted to, if she was being honest with herself.

Her new album turned out to be pretty successful; achieving various world records and setting new ones. Taylor's career was skyrocketing, and the general public loved that she had finally found her balance, something, or better _someone,_ to lean onto. And judging by their close friendship, Taylor was happy about that too.

Today, the sixth day of June, was the opening show for the singer's new world stadium tour, and Karlie had gladly accepted to go, Lily and Cara tagging along. Even Cara's opinion on the singer had changed, and she finally saw her under a different perspective, one that understood the pain from her past. The British model had lost her mother when she had been fairly young, so she didn't have a lot of memories with her, but either way, she still felt like something was missing within her family; a motherly figure. And her older sister had taken her mother's place, taking care of a little Cara when her father had been too devastated and exhausted to lead the family.

"Are we going to McDonald's afterwards?" Lily asked.

They were backstage, waiting for Taylor's set to begin. Karlie had yet to see and properly greet her friend, but she couldn't wait to see her perform and wrap the whole audience around her finger. There were about 90 thousands screaming fans out there, waiting for the singer to take the stage, and the whole chaotic scene made Karlie's heart beat faster inside her ribcage. It was insane; how much love Taylor received, yet still felt like she was unworthy of being loved.

"Can't we go to Burger King?"

"No, McDonald's is better."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Nope. As serious as a heart attack."

"Oh, come one,"

Karlie finally laughed and yelled over the noise of yelling fans. "Guys, stop," she chuckled. "Let's go to McDonald's. Lily is right, Cara. It's better than Burger King."

Cara looked at Karlie, then at the other model. "I can't believe that I'm friends with you."

Karlie pushed her shoulder with a loud laugh. But then the lights dimmed, the sound of an electric guitar overcame the stadium, the screaming got even louder, and her breath hitched in her throat. She quickly shut her friends up, who were still continuing their argument about which fast food was better, and kept her eyes trained on the center of the stage.

And then, from the darkness, Taylor rose.

With a black leather pantsuit, silver electric guitar in hand, and a confident look on her face as she walked towards the microphone, she looked majestic. She was a powerful and fearless phoenix, rising from ashes, and she had never looked better. Karlie felt her mouth hang open wide as she took in Taylor's complete outfit; it was sleeveless, her toned arms on full display, and the raven pants perfectly encased both her legs, from her muscular thighs to her calves, and also made her backside look like heaven to the model's eyes. Her blonde hair, wavy and with messy bangs on her forehead, cascaded like a golden river along her shoulders. Taylor looked gorgeous; she had to admit that. And in mere minutes, her angelic, deep and raspy voice had everyone listening and watching her. But Taylor, for the most part of the concert, only wanted to look at Karlie instead.

It was obvious that she was singing to someone in particular, that she was showing off because there was someone particular dear to her in the audience, and both of the model's friends cheered by her side. Karlie had blushing cheeks for the whole night, watching Taylor do what she did best with bated breath and a pounding heart inside her ribcage.

And when the concert finally ended, Cara jokingly asked, "Do we need to wait for you tonight?"

Which Lily followed with, "Are you even coming back to the hotel with _us_?"

They wiggled their brows at that, and Karlie rolled her eyes. "Stop, guys. We're friends. We're taking it slow because we want to do it right this time."

"Yeah, yeah," Cara dismissed. "But we asked you a question,"

"I don't know," Karlie replied honestly. "I don't know what will happen."

And it was the truth. The model didn't know what would happen once Taylor would come back from her dressing room. She was afraid to find that out, and yet she was still exhilarated to finally see the singer again after such a successful and joyful night.

"Well, we're going to McDonald's now. We're hungry. You coming with us?"

Karlie hesitated. Then, "No. I will spend some time with Taylor, then I'll meet you guys back at the hotel, alright?"

Cara smirked. "Well, sure, love. Just warn us if you make any changes to your plans."

"I won't, don't worry."

After that, the two shorter models left the venue, and once Karlie was left alone, she asked around where Taylor's dressing room was, unable to wait for her alone. A security guard led her towards it, and she met Tree Paine along the way.

"Hi, Karlie! So nice to see you! You look beautiful in this dress," the publicist complimented, pointing at her azure, flimsy dress.

"Thank you, Tree," Karlie smiled warmly.

"You going to meet with Taylor?"

"Yeah, I'm just going to say hi."

"Well, you can stay longer. She could use some company," the publicist grinned.

Karlie blinked rapidly, not knowing how to interpret that sentence. "Yeah, sure," she laughed it off, before she said her farewells and walked faster towards Taylor's room. It was as if there was a magnetic force pulling her towards the singer, who was apparently closer and closer. And then, when she was finally in front of her door, the security guard let her in once the singer allowed her to come in.

"Hey," Karlie said, the door closing behind her. She stood a few meters away from Taylor, who was standing before the mirror and checking her appearance. The singer was wearing a simple patterned navy button down shirt, the hem tucked inside the dark blue pants. The first few buttons were unfastened, showing just the tiny bit of skin. Her blonde hair was slightly damp and wavy from the shower she had just taken, and once again, Karlie was left breathless.

"Hi," Taylor greeted her with the biggest smile. "I'm so glad you came."

She stepped forward, timidly, rubbing her hands against each other in a nervous manner. "Yeah. You were incredible out there! I mean—you had the whole stadium in the palm of your hand. It's crazy,"

The singer took another step forward. "It never gets old," she said with a warm and welcoming smile.

They stood a few feet away from each other, the palpable tension between them making Karlie's whole body sing. When Taylor took another decisive step forward, and reached forward to touch the model's bare forearm, her skin tingled. The singer looked at her with a soft yet intense gaze, thousands of thoughts swirling through her dark blue irises. Taylor stepped forward once again, their bodies now almost touching. Karlie barely breathed, as all she could see and think about was the singer invading all of her senses. The singer didn't avert her eyes once her fingers intertwined with the model's, her gentle grasp pulling her closer.

"Are you happy now, Karlie?" the singer asked in a gentle whisper. Their faces were dangerously close, and the dazed look on Taylor's face made the model swallow. Her voice, quiet, the lights dim, made her whole body tremble with anticipation for what was to come.

"Yes," Karlie replied. She held her breath as the singer lowered her gaze to the thin lips for a millisecond. "Are you?"

"Yes," Taylor smiled faintly and squeezed her hand, as the other went up to hold onto Karlie's waist. " _More_ than happy," she added. There was a moment of comfortable and intimate silence, where the model placed her hand against Taylor's wrist and held her. And then, the singer asked, "Do you _still_ love me?"

And Karlie found herself replying with only the bare and naked truth. "I've _never_ stopped."

Something shifted within Taylor's eyes, as they focused on Karlie's. If the model had to describe into one word the moment that followed her confession, it would be _magical_. Golden. Because then Taylor leaned in, slowly but determinedly, and kissed her. When the model closed her eyes to enjoy the singer's lips against hers, she saw clear skies, and beaches, and white sand, and the start of a new beginning, like sunrise. She heard the sound of soft waves crash against hard rocks, the noise of seagulls flying above, the sound that the seashells made as they glided along the shore. In that moment, Taylor smelled like freedom, and certainty, and the sea. Perhaps it was the perfume that she had applied a few moments before, but Karlie still cupped her jaw, only to get another taste of this heavenly moment. The kiss deepened, but it never went too far. Taylor respected her wishes, her hands not wandering, the movement of her plump lips gentle and slow, not rushed and hungry and urgent. All of this was new to them, but they welcomed it with open arms and a soul full of love for the other woman.

When Taylor gently pulled away from her, the sound of their lips disconnecting echoing in the room was followed by their peaceful breathing. Karlie placed her forehead against the singer's, and a smile bloomed on her face.

And it was in this moment that they finally did it right. There was no crying, no pain slicing their hearts in half. There was nothing else but pure, bright daylight.

"I love you," Taylor finally whispered.

And Karlie nuzzled their nosestogether, replying just as gently, "I love you, too."


End file.
